


Never in a Million Years

by MarieVargas



Series: Never in a Million Years [1]
Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Also there is a lot of queer stuff on the DL, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complicated Relationships, Drama, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, It's a huge field trip to visit everyone's families, M/M, Multi, Post-War, Reunions, So much drama I live for it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14579028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieVargas/pseuds/MarieVargas
Summary: The camp is liberated, families are (mostly) reunited and added to, love is found and lost, backstories are discovered, Nimrod is revealed, and it is one hell of a complicated emotional roller coaster.





	1. Chapter 1

It had all been so easy, almost too easy when they finally walked out of Stalag 13. 

Klink had surrendered without a second thought to Colonel Hogan when the man had walked into his office with the simple statement that the Americans were coming within the week. Hogan accepted the surrender and told Klink to start taking out his papers and pack them so they could sort them all in London. Klink was at a loss of words, for once looking his true age as he slowly sank back into his chair. Hogan watched him, for once knowing that he had won, but he didn’t know how to feel about winning over a man he had considered below him, but also as a pseudo friend.

“Kommandant?”

“Yes, Colonel Hogan?” Klink looked up with a look of despair, and Hogan gave him a legitimate salute before he walked out of the room with all of the confidence of a true officer. 

Klink stares for a moment, then rushes to get all of his paperwork together like Hogan had told him to.

When the day arrived, the Colonel had given his orders to the armed men who put their Ex-Kommandant and almost the rest of the germans on one truck, all of them looking nervous or resigned except for two, who rode in one of the trucks with the prisoners. Under heavily armed guards, they were transported out first after the most sick and injured men.

Schultz and Langenscheidt, the only two men who Hogan had already told they were free as soon as they were debriefed in London, had helped the Americans who liberated the camp with keeping the other officers in line and loading the tired prisoners into the trucks, doing one final roll call to make sure each and every man was accounted for. Hogan even caught sight of Langenscheidt comforting some of the overwhelmed soldiers who didn’t know how to process finally being free for real, but didn’t say a word as he continued on his rounds and helped his own men with the removal of everything from the tunnels.

The last he saw of them, Shultz was dabbing his eyes as he was telling Olsen and Thomas about how excited he was to see his children and Langenscheidt was talking about his new bride, knowing Hogan had already sent her to London where she would be safe until the damned war was finally over. He saluted the men as they left, promising to meet up with them in London.

Long after the last truck leaves, full of the last few troops who helped until their CO practically ordered them out of the camp like a mother telling her children to go to bed after a long day, they were finally the last five to leave; Lebeau, Newkirk, Baker, Carter and Hogan, wanting to make sure that every last man had been taken care of and shipped off to London. They had even made sure that every last bit of their equipment and had that shipped ahead of them before they all spent their time saying their last goodbyes to the place that had been their home for so long.

That alone may have been the hardest thing to do out of all the whole ordeal.

Carter had lined the tunnels with explosives, knowing that they had to destroy any and all evidence that the operations there ever existed. His hands carefully tracing the walls as he remembered his first time actually seeing the hard work that had been put into it. Newkirk made sure to strap extra bombs in their barracks, leaning against the table that had he had played many a card game with the boys, discussed many missions, and sometimes just sat at with a hot drink in his hands while nattering on with the men he thought of as just more family.

Lebeau made sure that the cooler was rigged too, nothing could stay, hopefully not even the barbed wire outside. He knew he would still always remember the nights where he sat in this damned tiny room, hoping and praying that he would get out sooner than later. The Colonel always got him out, especially when it was his own plans that got him in, however, the nights he was stuck tight, he could always count on Newkirk to go out of his way to piss Klink off enough that he ended up right beside his best friend. It was little things like that that made him feel like Newkirk should have been his brother. 

Baker lined the recreational hall with more bombs, unable to keep a smile from his face as he remembered the first time he really started to enjoy himself here, when he watched his now former mentor lay out a German soldier. Then, he was asked personally to join them as Kinch’s understudy in the radio room. It was honestly a treat, and, ever since Kinch had been personally asked to come to London to help out with their operation, he used that little memory to help keep the faith.

Hogan himself waltzed through the Kommandantur. The charges had already been set around what once was the desk of Helga, then Hilda, and he was just checking the timers on them, knowing they would go off in half an hour, just as they were just out of sight of the camp. However, he couldn’t help himself. He instead walked through the door he had gone into too many times that lead into Klink’s office.

The room was empty, nothing on the walls, nothing on the desk or in the filing cabinets, the safe was opened and emptied. In each corner was a bomb that would make sure the whole building would come down, just like all of the barracks and everything above and under the ground. He made his way to the desk and took off his cap, setting it where Klink used to set his helmet, and looked out the window to take it all in from here just one last time.

 

An American car stood in front of Stalag 13, the American captain, Meyers, and a British lieutenant, Stanhope, standing outside of it as they watched the last of the heroes set up the final present for the little camp that they had spent a good deal of the war in. The captain smoked a cigarette as the lieutenant looked over the barren grounds, wondering how such a small camp could have such a high priority, but then settled on the simple answer that he may never know.

They both had heard the rumors, of course, because who hadn’t heard the rumors, but there was no way they could be true. About three hundred men, give or take, knowing fully of an operation that was said to do everything from espionage to sabotage to running a grand central station of people from Germany to London like it was nothing.

Stanhope looked to the captain, wondering if he was thinking the same thing as he was, but he doesn’t say anything, knowing General Barton’s orders were to just get the men, take care of the job, and not ask any questions.

When the five men met up in the middle of the camp, the two escorts retreated into the cab, knowing that they had little to no time to waste.

Lebeau had climbed into the car, thankful he never had to see another explosion as long as he lived after this, Baker hopping in after him, grinning as he practically melted into the comfortable seat, “I can’t wait until we get out of Germany. I’ve been here too long.”

“We have been here longer than you,” the Frenchman said with a over-dramatic eye roll. They had all been in Germany too long, so the sooner they said goodbye the better.

Carter had an arm around Newkirk’s waist as he helped him into the car, letting Newkirk use him as a support for his lame leg. The Englander’s pride had kept him from going with the first wave, instead waiting for the last with the rest of his friends, but he still got a lecture from Wilson a few days before the man left with the fourth wave, only getting the man to take off when he promised to get a cane when they made it to England. Newkirk gets settled into the other window seat before Carter seats himself smackdab between his two friends, “Boy, that was fun, let’s never do it again.”

Newkirk made the ugliest snort as Baker and Lebeau tried to muffle their laughter behind their hands.

“Alright, no dying, the war’s already over. Let’s try to stay alive until we at least meet up with Kinch,” Colonel Hogan gently chides as he climbs into the seat next to Baker, looking more tired than he ever had before.

They all saluted with a chorus of ‘Yes, Sir’ before the car started to move and they all watched as the camp slowly disappeared in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

They rounded the corner and as they lost sight of the last glimpse of the camp, there was a loud explosion and they knew it was finally over. They stayed quiet just long enough to make sure the bombs really did go off in a blaze of glory, then finally relaxed when they realized their final sabotage mission complete.

Saying that Newkirk was fidgety would have been an understatement. It all seemed way too easy and he was sitting there, certain they would have to jump out of the car or at least duck from enemy ambushes. The only thing somewhat keeping him losing his mind was the two packs of cigarettes he had tucked into his jumper (and the promise of a third from Carter), and the comforting arm of said Sergeant looped loosely around his shoulders as he babbled in low voices with Louis about finally going home.

The Frenchman started talking with an endearing look on his face, “I am finally going home to ma belle maman. She has been without her little bébé garçon for too long, She only knows the little stories that Jean-Philippe has told her from his work with us, but, of course, she doesn’t know the whole story, we try to keep her safe after all.”

Carter joins in with Baker, the three of them talking about their mothers and how excited they would be to see their sons again after so long. Baker told them about his mother’s melt-off-the-bone tender barbeque and the perfect pound cake his father probably couldn’t wait to make again once rationing was over while Carter talked about how his mom would definitely cry the second she saw him.

“She hasn’t seen me or my sister since I was drafted.”

Newkirk presses his forehead to the glass of the window, trying to think about how his stepmother and his siblings would react to him finally coming home, ignoring the conversation of the other three, especially when Lebeau starts passionately talking about how he couldn’t wait to be home again, even if they are only spending a little time there before going to London.

Carter only hushes him softly when he glances across the cab and there was the man of the hour, who had fallen asleep just before Frankfurt. Hogan had his arms crossed, his head tipped forward with his cap covering over his eyes. If it wasn’t for the fact that his chest was raising and falling nice and slow, the men would have been concerned, Hogan never seemed so… calm before. Even when he had his devil may care attitude around and almost endless women at his disposal. 

Baker leaned over to be in the conversation so he couldn’t wake up the colonel, listening to the list of things Lebeau was telling them that he would love to show them and the things his mother would have ready for them.

Carter was sharing a cigarette with Newkirk, trying to tug him into the conversation and out of his near-endless jittering, his good leg bouncing uncontrollably with the other tucked between it and the wall.

“Pierre, you are going to meet my family by tonight, maybe tomorrow, when we meet back up with Kinch-”

Newkirk just waves him off, taking the cigarette from Carter and taking a long drag and exhaling it through his nose before he says that he’s fine, “I’m just not sure I feel like really leaving Germany just yet, you know ‘ow it is, I can’t be too sure a ‘ow friendly the rest a the world’s gonna be after being treated so well in Stalag thirteen.”

Carter rests his head on his shoulder, “Hey, buddy, things are gonna be alright. Soon we’re gonna have Kinch back with us, then we are gonna go meet everyone’s families, after going to London and being told to keep quiet about the operation, even though we all already knew about that, but, hey, at least they’re thorough, I mean, gosh, who would believe us anyways? Then-”

He ashes the cigarette and smokes it down to nothing, only really noticing when it burns his middle and index fingers as Carter continues to ramble on. He drops it out the window, and goes to light another, but the American helps him with it, then goes right back to talking to Lebeau and Baker.

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It had been almost five stress-filled hours after the camp had been destroyed before Newkirk had finally ended up falling asleep with his head against the window of the car, a burnt out cigarette slipping from his fingers to the floor. Next to him Carter was nodding off from the continuous rocking motion of the car and from not getting much sleep the night before, excited to finally be able to see new people and have the chance to go home. Lebeau was tapping his fingers on the armrest, absolutely exhausted, so close to home, but so far away. 

They were meeting up in Paris first to tie up a few loose ends with Tiger and the French underground, and to retrieve their sixth member, who had went ahead to meet them halfway on their trip with some others who couldn’t help but see them as soon as they could. 

Lebeau couldn’t be more antsy to be home and not only have it be a terrible tease with just a visit before being whisked off to London and then America. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to do it, but he wanted to be home and hold his mother after how long he had been gone, he was a mama’s boy after all.

On the other side of the car sat Baker, staring out the window with a look of wonder, he never really had much of a chance to go traveling when he was younger, and his stay at Stalag Thirteen hadn’t helped much either. France was gorgeous, and just watching the rolling countryside and glimpses of cities kept him from making too much noise, which might wake the Colonel, who hadn’t moved or woken up once since he passed out.

They were pulling up to the meeting place, 

He blinks blearily as Lebeau and Baker get out of the car, the two shaking hands with Kinch and practically embracing the man the second their feet hit solid ground. Carter says a little hello to Kinch as he adjusts to stretch and try to wake up a bit more before trying to help Newkirk.

When Kinch asks who’s awake besides Baker, Lebeau, and Carter, he recieves the answer that Newkirk just woke up and the Colonel was still asleep. The Sergeant goes to tell Meyers, the driver, to pull around to the back so the poor man can sleep in an actual bed for a night before getting to go home, he had had a pretty damn big day after all.

All three men climb back into the car so it can be pulled around to the back, Kinch chuckling as he tells them that they will all get a hug as soon as they get out again.

The back door opens and a gorgeous black woman comes out, dressed to the nines in lace and feathers, looking as regal as a queen, “Ivan, darling, the last room is all set up.”

Kinch helps himself out of the car, grinning from ear to ear, “Fellas, this is Carol, a very good friend of mine.”

“Enchanté,” Lebeau practically croons as he leaps out of the car to kiss her hand. Kumasa has an entertained grin on her face as she glances towards Kinch as if to say ‘wow, you were not kidding.’

“Now I knew France had pretty girls, but this is unbelievable,” Baker replies, taking off his cap to her after he follows the others out.

“Well aren’t you boys the charmers?” Kumasa says with a warm smile, swirling her sleeves as she makes an overly showy motion to kiss them both on their cheeks in a traditional greeting, then she goes to check on the others in the cab.

“I thought your name was James?” Baker asks, watching as Kumasa tsks softly at Hogan still fast asleep.

“I used to go by my middle name in high school, because my best friend was named James too,” he says with a grin and puts a hand on his shoulder before going to help everyone else out of the car.

“Hey, sleeping beauties, we have lunch for you,” Kinch says in a teasing tone, opening the door and helping Carter get Newkirk out when the American tells him that there had been an accident and Newkirk couldn’t walk on his own yet.

“Darn thing cramped up,” the Englishman hisses as he tries to stretch himself out while letting Carter take most of his weight. Kinch takes over and Carter cracks his back before Kumasa slides over to welcome them.

“Andrew, Newkirk, this is Carol Dukes, my-”

“Oh, ain’t you the girl from that one mission that Kinch went on that made him dress like a door man?”

“And you must be Andrew Carter, the sweetheart with very little filter,” she kisses his cheeks and he flushes, looking down a bit.

“Well, gosh… Kinch, I can’t believe you’d talk me up like that.”

Newkirk snorts as he leans back against the car on his good leg, Kinch chuckles lowly, “Carter, I have obviously told her about all of you. She did help save Paris, so it was only fair that she got to know about us just a bit.”

“Did you tell ‘er that I am a devilishly ‘andsome, intelligent bloke with magic fingers?” Newkirk says while wiggling his fingers and winking at Kumasa.

“Now why would I just straight-up lie to her?”

Carter muffled laughter behind his hand and goes to loop his arm around Newkirk to help him hobble inside the building after Baker and Lebeau. An employee guides them to the open quarters that they would be able to relax in before lunch time and, as they sit, the door opens again and Lebeau shoots up.

“Maman!” he rushes to the woman and pulls her into a tight hug.

Mrs. Lebeau was a petite woman with stark white hair that was pinned neatly into neat curls on the side of her head, and almost a head shorter than her son. She’s got her hands on his face and she’s kissing his cheeks as she and Louis both babble in French at each other.

Louis buries his face in her hair, clutching her as flush to his chest as he possibly can, his eyes squeezed tight as he just tries to take in the fact that he’s holding his mother after all this time.

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Outside, Kinch is gently rousing the Colonel, humming for him to wake up so he can at least rest in one of the beds.

“Come on, Colonel, let’s get you out so you can breathe some good, old fashioned, free air. It’s not American air just yet, but it’s still something.”

After a moment, the man slowly opens his eyes, like he had never a fear or worry of being caught by men with guns or anyone who would wish any harm on him in his life. He lifts his head after a moment, then cracks a half grin at his friend, uncrossing his arms and trying to will the stiffness out of himself, “I must have dozed off, did I miss anything?”

“Nothing too important, just the end of the war, now let’s get you inside. There’s a bed with your name on it, also a hot shower with a matching nice hot supper,” Kinch stands back and holds the door open for his close friend and previous CO.

Hogan makes his way out of the car and offers his hand to Kinch to shake it. The sergeant just pauses before laughing and pulling the colonel into a hug, “Don’t you start being formal on me now. That can wait until we get to London.”

Hogan chuckles as he’s released and agrees before the two make their way inside, just to be met with the wonderful smells that awaited them inside.

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Amarisa Lebeau was seated on the edge of one of the chairs, her younger son sitting in the same seat as he spoke animatedly in French to her, a plate of food on his lap. Baker sat on the couch, squeezed next to Kumasa, Dubois and Tiger as they all enjoyed the spread laid out on the table with a bottle of wine and talked. On the chaise sat Newkirk and Carter with another man, who looked just like Lebeau if he had lighter hair and a growth spurt, all three of them talking and snickering as they kept glancing over at Louis. When the man sees Hogan, he stands up and grins at the Colonel.

“Ah, it’s about time I finally got to meet you in person, mon colonel,” he steps around the table with grace and takes Hogan’s hand in both of his own, shaking it like he had the greatest honor of all, “Jean-Philippe Lebeau, sir, Sergeant in the Free French Air Force and brother to your Caporal here. Oh, Monsieur, you have no idea how at ease I have felt, knowing that mon petit frère was in such good hands. I owe my life to you for the heartache you have spared maman and I-”

“Sergeant, I am glad to make your acquaintance and I appreciate the sentiments, but they are unneeded. I was simply doing my job and your brother has saved my life almost as often if not more than I have saved his.”

Jean-Philippe nods and salutes him, then smiles in a way that makes him look just like his brother, “Colonel, you do not need to be so formal towards me, please, call me Jean. According to Maurice, you call Louis by our last name, so I figure that would be far too confusing and out of the question.”

Hogan looks over and notices the underground agents and gives them a little salute as they both stand to say their hellos, “Alright, Jean, I feel like that can be arranged. Feel free to call me Hogan, I feel like my men might lose it if I started going by Robert any time soon.”

“Bien sûr, Colonel Hogan,” he notices Tiger eyeing the colonel, so he makes his way back to his seat, resuming his conversation with Newkirk and Carter.

As Tiger claims his first kiss as a newly freed man, Louis is babbling to Kinch in a mix of French, and English with bits of German tossed in, practically moved to tears as he tries to keep himself under control just long enough to thank his dear friend for surprising him with what remained of his little family. Kinch just wraps an arm around his shoulders and tells him that it was his pleasure, his mother was a real sweetheart, and her latkes were to die for.

“If I knew how good potato pancakes could be, I never would have cursed the existence of them at the camp,” he says in a teasing tone, squeezing Lebeau’s shoulder gently, “Louis, you know I never liked to see you cry, happy or sad tears. C’mon, let’s dig in, I’ve been smelling what she’s been cooking all day, but she wouldn’t let me in the kitchen and I’m glad because when Jean-Philippe got here-”

“She smacked his hands with the spoon?” Louis said with a grin.

“I heard that someone didn’t get any of the family’s cooking magic.”

Louis snorts as he dabs at his eyes, “He could burn water just by looking at it.”

“Now that’s certainly nicer than what your mother said earlier.”

The corporal tsks at Kinch, “You know my mother is mon ange, do not tell me of things she did, even though I believe you completely and truly.”

“ ‘ey, ‘ow long can the colonel ‘old ‘is breath? Anyone timed ‘im?” Newkirk calls over, noticing that he and Tiger were still kissing in the middle of the room.

Dubois just helplessly shrugs, then goes back to the conversation, sitting down next to Baker as he waits to officially welcome Hogan to the free world.


	3. Chapter 3

As the night falls, everyone is shown to their rooms; Lebeau preferring to share a room with his family while Baker bunked with Dubois, Carter with Newkirk, and Hogan with Tiger.

Kinch sits with Kumasa in her room, sitting comfortably in his night clothes on their bed as he listens to her get herself ready for bed. He can't help but think she was gorgeous, even though he couldn’t see her, even after all this time. Maybe deep down he knows that he still is that lame kid in school that could never work up the courage to talk to her because every time he saw her he would get a dry mouth and forget how to speak. 

His friends would rib him and Harry, his best friend at the time who also had James as a first name, would just simply tell him that a girl like that would never even look at them.

Joke's on Harry now, huh. Here he was with Carol Dukes in her own personal club in Paris, he himself an unsung war hero who was bound to be promoted the second he set foot in London with the rest of his crew. He helped save the world and still found some love on the way.

Carol puts her hair up in a kerchief before she removes her bathrobe to show off her silky night gown and climbs into bed right next to Kinch, settling her cheek on his shoulder as she tucks her way into his chest.

“Look at you, Ivan Kinchloe. Here you are, the day after you arrive in France, collecting your friends, putting together a family reunion, gathering up people who went into hiding, all for nothing.”

“That's just how I do it.”

She smiles warmly and closes her eyes as she gets comfortable against him, “You've got a heart of solid gold.”

He smiles right back and tucks the blanket closer around them, “That makes it the perfect gift to give to you, doesn’t it?”

She responds by leaning up to kiss him softly. 

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Louis was talking in low voices with his older brother in English so his mother couldn't eavesdrop, his eyes wandering over to her sleeping form on the other side of the bed. If she ever found out what had really happened in Stalag 13, or the things he had heard and seen done to their people, he may never be truly able to forgive himself. She had seen what happened that fateful day when their father died after all. Jean-Philippe truly knew how to fix issues as they came up, he got that from their father while he got their mother's hardheadedness, stubbornness, and her barely-contained, passionate rage. There was a reason why Jean-Philippe was the older one after all.

As soon as France was invaded, Jean-Philippe made sure that their mother and father were out of harm's way while Louis joined the Free French without a second thought. While Louis was getting shot down, Jean-Philippe was hiding their parents from the men that came to town looking for the newly weds, the Lunels from down the street and the whole Carcassonne family. As they dragged the children from the house, screaming and crying, their father had intervened.

Louis stared down at his lap firmly before he looks at Jean-Philippe, “You know, I wish sometimes I wasn't so impulsive. Maybe I could've seen papa just once more. Maybe he wouldn't have died…”

“Louis, you and I both know that without you and your little troop, the war would probably have not gone in this direction.”

“I should have been there though-”

“Besides, Louis, he died doing what was right,” his brother pulls him close, squeezing him tightly as he hushes his little brother from the guilt that he has buried in the very bottom if his heart, “you know you would have done the same thing, don’t deny it.”

It’s too quiet for what seems like forever before he mumbles that it's late and they need to get some sleep.

Louis just nods a bit before grabbing onto his brother's arm, “Please stay here with me. I missed out on four years of spending time with you, surrounded by no one but Americans and Englishmen.”

“Just like old times,” Jean-Philippe agrees, getting comfortable, “Sleep well, Louis.”

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“You're going to have to face them sooner or later, Robert.”

Hogan stops pouring the bottle of wine and meets the eyes of the woman sitting across from him.

“Oh? And who are we talking about now, Tiger?”

He returns to pouring the glass, then hands it to her, “France is free and the building is full of our Allies who couldn't be more loyal to you and I, so call me Marie.”

“Tiger-”

“I was talking about Ruth.”

Hogan almost drops his wine glass. His eyes are wide and he was so caught off guard that he couldn't think of a way to deny it.

“The official report sent to your sister says that you are MIA. She probably thinks you're dead by now, otherwise you would have come home. Why did you never tell her? Or your brother-in-law? Ruth could've known too, it's not right to-”

She falls silent when he stands, his expression dark and stormy, “This is not a matter that concerns you, Miss Monet. I am turning in for the night. Do try to not wake me, I do have a long trip tomorrow.”

As he leaves to retire to the bedroom, she slowly stands and makes her way to the bedroom on the other side of the sitting room. She knocks gently and Dubois calls for her to enter.

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As Tiger opens the door, she finds the two men playing cards.

“Oh, my lady, please join us. We're just finishing up, where's the colonel?” Baker says as he sits back down.

“He turned in for the night, he's trying to make up for not getting a single bit for the last four years.”

Dubois grins a little lopsided smile at her, telling her that he deserved it and she takes her spot next to him, “Hopefully you will lend me some luck, I’ve lost to him three times already.”

“In a row,” Baker adds.

“Are you two gambling already? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“We’re not gambling, well, not for money, so far I owe him two lessons in French and that story about the the three men, you know, Minsk, Meyers, and Stanhope, on the patio.”

“If I win this one, he has to tell me about the Russian that took eight men to catch.”

“However, if I win, he has to sing for me.”

Tiger slowly smiles, “Well, in that case, I’m giving all my luck to you, Maurice.”

The Lieutenant grins as he realizes he can pick up almost the entire discard pile, much to the Sergeant’s chargin, “You won’t reach five hundred unless you end this hand with two hundred and three, Dubois, I only have a hundred and seventeen to go, you can’t beat me.”

“Queens, twos, seven through ten of diamonds…” he keeps naming off the cards as he lays them down, Tiger murmuring to him that he can also put down the fives, which Baker protests, but has to let it go when Dubois says that if Baker wins this time, he gets the story about the Russian and another one about anything he wants.

“Ha, I only have two cards left,” Dubois gloats as he discards and relaxes against the back of the couch. Tiger chuckles as Baker picks up the discarded card and lays down half the cards in his hand.

“Your move, Lieutenant.”

“I’ll get the bottle of wine to enjoy while I get to enjoy the winner’s prize with him.”

Tiger stands and collects the bottle from the other room she had just left, casting a glance towards the room that Hogan had disappeared into before she heads back to the room with the boys.

“I would accuse you of cheating if I wasn’t a freeman in Paris with good wine and good company,” Baker stands and takes the bottle from Tiger to open and serve it to all three of them.

Dubois toasts to the two of them, standing up as he says that he’s glad the damned war is over, “Now, if you don’t mind, I prefer to collect on my reward first, Richard.”

Baker laughs and clears his throat before he starts singing in his deep baritone voice.

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The next room over, one bed is unoccupied and the lights are out, however both men are still in the room, laying in the other bed, listening to the deep voice of Baker singing the lyrics to ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square’ in the next room over.

Carter was laying down, facing Newkirk on his side. His cheek was resting on top of the Englishman’s head, his arms looped around him loosely as his eyes slowly slip closed. Newkirk had his arms around Carter’s waist and his cheek pressed to the other’s chest. 

“.... You know, this is nice,” Carter murmurs softly, his hands rubbing over Newkirk’s back.

Newkirk is quiet for a moment, then he adjusts a bit to look up at Carter a bit, “Mhmm… I’m goin’ ta miss these close quarters a bit.”

He settles back into his previous position, letting Carter chuckle and sigh comfortably against him, “I can’t wait to meet your family.”

“Mmm, yeah… They’ll be all over you, well, the little ones at least.”

“Little ones? I thought you just had Mavis?”

Newkirk grins and squeezes him closer, “There was ten a us all together. I ‘ad three older brothers, two older sisters, Mave, an I ‘ave three little half sisters.”

“Had? What do you mean-?” Carter stops and he frowns, one hand going up to play with his hair.

Newkirk shrugs a bit, “I only just found out. Mavis didn’t want to tell me until after the war. Sent a letter with Kinch. Me stepmum didn’t want ta step on any toes an tell me behind ‘er back.”

Carter waits a moment, then, as he’s accepting that Newkirk won’t tell him, he continues, “Brian was ambushed with ‘is platoon an didn’t make it out… Eileen was crushed gettin’ children into a bomb shelter on ‘er way ‘ome from work.”

It’s silent for a little while, Carter running his ungloved fingers through the hairs on the back of Newkirk’s head, “I just have my little brother. Then my mom and dad… Geez, they’re gonna be mad when they see me. I’ve never seen them really mad, but it’s not gonna be pretty when I come home.”

Newkirk is silent at first, knowing exactly what Carter was talking about, “You know I’ll be there with you.”

“... Yeah, I know… But I’m still worried, you know?”

Newkirk just nods and murmurs that it will all be alright in the end, “.... We need some sleep. We’re goin’ to the cemetery with Louis tomorrow.”

“I guess you're right…”

“A course I'm right,” he answers, settling himself once again, relaxing from how private it was, just the two of them with barely a care in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning seems to come too fast.

They’ve already been free men for one full day, but it doesn’t feel like it.

Sure, they are all gathered at the table of the VIP room in Le Bal Africain, surrounded by old friends and contacts, but it doesn’t feel real.

Kinch is joking away with Dubois and Jean-Philippe, Tiger talking to Baker and Dubois’ wife, who arrived earlier that morning; and Lebeau was helping his mother in the kitchen, putting their own family recipes on the plates that were coming out. Carter and Newkirk are speaking to Vladimir ‘Sam’ Minsk, who arrived in the night with Igor Piotkin, smoking cigarettes as they reminisce about how the operation used to be as simple as getting men out of Germany.

It was so calm and domestic and the men all had the distant thought that all of this was just a lovely dream that they could wake up from at any moment. However that moment just kept seeming further and further away as they ate and shared stories. 

“-So there I vas, having just been dropped off on our front by the Szkop, vhen I take off. They are losing their minds, thinking I just vas diving into battle or something, then I hear shooting all around me, so I just start shouting, ‘pozvol' mne tozhe strelyat'! Pozvol' mne tozhe strelyat'!’,“ Igor is waving his arms as he reenacts his story, Minsk laughing as the man gets really into it, half-standing and brandishing his hands, “Then, they see I’m Russian, they let me go by, still shooting at the Szkop.”

“I stopped shooting at him because he was too happy to see Russia to be German.”

“ ‘e bloody well better ‘ave been ‘appy gettin’ ‘ome, Sam. ‘e almost took all a us down tryin’ ta get back ta your ice-covered ‘ell ‘ole... No offense.”

Minsk gives Newkirk the side-eye, “You’re just jealous that England is a wet spit of a country.”

“Oi, I said no offense.”

“I didn’t realize the truth vas so painful, Peter.”

“Mum always said gentlemen don’t fight at the table, good thin’ neither a us are gentlemen.”

“Uspokoysya, tovarishch,” Hogan says as he joins the table late, fixing his cufflinks.

Minsk stands, forgetting his current conversation in order to shake the colonel’s hand, “Tovarishch, it is so good to see you in good health. I certainly missed you all after I made my way home.”

“Sam, we missed you too. I see you have met everyone already that you didn’t before?”

“Da, Colonel, you certainly have such an interesting team.”

“You saw the dregs I started out with, we didn’t even have a real group until I got Kinch to join us,” Hogan answers with a smirk.

“I’m gonna tell Louis that ‘e an I aren’t appreciated.”

“Oh, did I say that aloud?”

Minsk is laughing again, clapping Hogan on the back before he tells Newkirk that they will go to Russia one day after they all get to go home.

Dubois pulls up a chair for the colonel, sitting closer to his wife as he opens up the spot between him and Kinch, “Colonel, I have a woman who is étoile de ma vie, and I would like to introduce you to her.”

Hogan tells him to give him a moment, patting Minsk on the back, then shaking hands with Igor, telling him that he was glad he was able to get back to Russia and give the krauts a good, firm kick back with their tails between their legs. Somehow, he suddenly finds himself by Dubois, tipping his hat to a lovely woman and kissing her hand when he finds out that she was wife of the Frenchman.

“Your husband is a brave man, but I want to know how on earth he managed to leave the house when he had such a lovely woman there.”

“Simple,” she says with a glint in her eyes, “we both had our own ways of ridding the Nais from our beloved country.”

“I once watched her use killer judo on a gestapo man,” Dubois says, looking at his wife with a warm glance.

She blows a kiss to him, “I took commando training.”

Tiger sighs, “I’m so jealous of you, Alice.”

“Maybe we can get a class together next war, Marie.”

Hogan looks to Kinch, “Do you hear this? Did I miss something?”

“Colonel, you honestly didn’t miss any more than I did,” Kinch replies.

“Mrs. Dubois, you should teach me some of that before I go home,” Baker says, “I want to be able to show off for the ladies back home.”

“Son, she will lay you out before you could say ‘ready’,” Kinch tells him as the woman gently pats his cheek and tells him it’s true.

“Next war I’m joining the paratroopers.”

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

Just before noon, they parted from the nice little club, sharing their thanks and brief goodbyes at least until they saw each other in London that evening, then headed towards the cemetery so Lebeau could pay some final respects to his father in person.

They were quiet, the men arriving in their dress uniforms and carrying potted plants and some garden trowels. They looked like quite a sight, but they weren’t thinking of themselves as they looked to their close friend. Lebeau just stood there for a moment, feeling the comforting hand that Kinch set on his shoulder as he looked at the grave. A few weeds looked like they had been pulled away recently, but the Frenchman slowly knelt down and brushed away the grass that obscured some of the name.

Newkirk knelt down next to him without a second thought and helped him clear away the debris, murmuring that it was a fine spot for a final resting place. The beech tree next to it gave some shade, which ought to make any spirit feel comfortable.

Lebeau just nodded, the lump in his throat preventing him from speaking.

“A fine spot for such a courageous man,” Hogan says finally, settling himself on Lebeau’s other side. He sets his potted rose bush to the side and asks if Lebeau would mind if they started planting the flowers while he took a moment.

He received a nod and gets to work with the small shovel that Baker handed to him.

The five men get to work planting the flowers that they had picked out from the flower shop on their way there, Newkirk staying close to his best friend as he helps dig a hole for the one little rose bush Jean-Philippe told them he got from their childhood home. Carter hands Lebeau a handkerchief to dry his face, wiping his dirty hands off on his dress slacks first. They work in silence, rolling their sleeves up as they let Lebeau cry in peace.

When the heroes finish, Lebeau starts to speak in Hebrew, saying a prayer of protection that he faintly remembered his father saying when he joined the Free French. There’s no way that he could remember the words exactly, his father had made it up on the spot. He wasn’t even truly listening, the two of them had fought that day, but that didn’t stop his father from praying that he would be alright, blessing him as he went out the door.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, tears streaking faster down his face as he covers his face, bowing his head to the stone of the grave he was kneeling on, unsure of what to say. Suddenly, it comes to him and he says the mourner’s Kaddish, the words almost feeling strange, he wasn’t even in Shnat ha-evel anymore, and that he didn’t even observe like he should have. The guilt gnaws away at him as he tries to hold back the cracking in his voice. No one interrupted him and they all bowed their heads respectfully. He finishes and leans forward to kiss the headstone before he stands, scrubbing at his face again as the others join him.

The name, Fabian Jacques Lebeau, stands out brilliantly against the stone, shaded comfortably by the tree.

Newkirk has his arm around Lebeau’s shoulders, offering him some comfort as he uses him as support, not saying anything as Lebeau turns to look away from the grave and bury his face in his shoulder to try to breathe and calm himself.

They stand there for quite some time before Carter suggests they say a few words, which Lebeau agrees to.

“He would have liked you all. Would've offered you all free paint at his shop too,” Lebeau says in a watery voice, which earns a snort from Newkirk. “Colonel, do you mind going first?”

Hogan nods and turns to the grave, “Mister Lebeau, it was an honor serving alongside your son in this war. He is a good man and I owe him my life. We all made sure he got back to you in one piece, just to tell you what a fine job you did on raising him.”

“Louis is one of my best friends, sir, and he is definitely one of the best chefs I have ever met,” Carter says afterwards, reaching over to pat Lebeau’s back. “He also has the biggest heart of anyone I know, without him we all wouldn’t have felt as safe as we did in Germany of all places.”

Baker looks to Newkirk, as if asking if he could go, and Newkirk nods, his arm looped around his best friend to comfort him.

“Uh, Mr. Lebeau, sir, I haven't known your son, Louis, for very long, but he has told me about how great you were. He told me that you had a real love for your country and your people, and I wish I could've met you. I heard that you were a great man right up to the end and you died doing what was right. Let me tell you, sir, I admire you, despite never getting to meet you once.”

Kinch hesitates before he talks, reaching over find Lebeau’s shoulder first and give it a hearty squeeze, then he salutes the grave, “Sir, I have had the pleasure of meeting your family and working alongside your son. He is intelligent and cunning and from what your lovely wife and your eldest son tell me, you were too. I also know that you were a fine man and a fearless soldier. General Corden also gave me explicit orders to send his regards to your wife and to tell you that you were the best man he ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Lebeau looks to Kinch and gives him a weak smile as he touches his hand as a thank you before Newkirk adjusts to bow his head towards the grave, “Sir, I may jus' be an Englishman, but I can tell you tha’ Louis is my best friend, my lil’ mate, an he may as well be my brother. ‘e's closer to me than any a my brothers were an, from what ‘e's told me, you were the best father ta ever exist an I wish you could ‘ave been mine.”

He tips his hat a bit to the grave, “You ‘ave a good rest, sir, an we will keep looking over Louis with you. Promise.”

Lebeau loops his arm around Newkirk and gives him a little hug, his eyes focused on the date of his father's passing before he murmurs that they had to get to London soon.

Hogan doesn't move, telling him that they could stay as long as Lebeau needed.

“I think I'm alright. He wouldn't want me to mourn him when I'm supposed to be celebrating my freedom… I'll do that when I return home.”

It's quite for a moment, then Lebeau moves to help Newkirk back to the car.

The others follow them one at a time at a slow pace so they don’t overtake the two men in front.

“ ‘e’d be proud a you, Louis. I know I am at least. An you said ‘e was just like your brother, an I know ‘e’s proud a you already, so your da must be extra proud a you.”

“... Merci, Pierre. I’m certain he would have loved you as a son.”

The ride to London starts out quiet and somber, everyone in their seats they had from the trip from Germany, Kinch sitting between Hogan and Baker. The deafening silence is only broken when Baker looks at Lebeau across the cab and asks him if he really got bitten by a Russian once.

The question catches Lebeau so off guard that he can’t even answer for a minute, in which Cater replies for him, “Yeah, he was hungry.”

The men all laugh and the silence melts away, filled with laughter and stories, the men all taking turns as they tell about their favorite missions, from Carter impersonating Hiter and telling Klink about his love for barbed wire to Lebeau helping Hogan release Tiger from France. Newkirk is telling Baker about his one mission when he smacked a German officer with his purse when he was dressed as Frau Newkirkberger, which is making the Sergeant hold his stomach in laughter, even though the others don’t find it nearly as funny, knowing how the story ended with the Red Cross packages getting blown up instead. 

Hogan doesn’t talk much, telling the men he’s tired and will talk to them when they get to London, closing his eyes and leaning back as he tries not to think about how right Tiger was.


	5. Chapter 5

Their debriefing had been curt and to the point.

They had already been told that they were not allowed to speak of the operation and pretend it never happened until further notice.

They would be all arranged with flights and all expenses paid trips home at the end of the week, which gave them two days in London for the rest of their wait. They saluted and acknowledged their orders and their permitted leave, knowing they would be awarded with new ranks and medals when they next walked in. 

As soon as they exited the building with a bag of things that had been released to each of them, Newkirk turned around and told his friends that he was going home for dinner.

“An anyone who wants ta join me better hurry up ‘cause I've already waited a whole war, ‘m not about to wait an extra five minutes when my brothers and sisters are literally right around the corner,” he then uses his crutches to pick up some speed and get to the car faster than any of them.

Everyone ended up caving in, climbing in after him.

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Newkirk fixes Carter’s tie, his fingers itching to do something while he tries to not smoke a whole pack in the twenty minutes it took them to get to Stepney. Carter, bless his soul, lit up one and offered it, his soft blue eyes meeting Newkirk’s and causing the other man to calm down enough to at least breathe. His own green ones drift down to Carter’s mouth and his fingers falter at making the perfect knot for a moment and he has to redo it, hoping no one thought it was anything more than nerves.

The car seems to be taking a million years to just turn onto his road. His hands are shaking as he holds onto his crutches and the door of the car at the same time. The car barely stops before he’s launching himself out of the door. His feet barely hit the sidewalk when the front door burst open and a beautiful girl with a well-worn dress on that looked like it used to be luxurious at one point and her hair all pinned up into an almost messy bun rushed out to him.

The two met in the middle and they were suddenly on the ground, both half-sitting on each other as they clung like the world would end if they spend another second apart. Carter and Lebeau made their way out of the car, Carter going to make sure that Newkirk was alright while the Frenchman picked up the crutches.

Newkirk didn’t even pay any mind to his friends anymore, his face buried in his sister’s neck as he struggled to breathe as his whole body shook in relief. There was a few yells of ‘Peter!’ before he gasped as he was mobbed by the rest of the group of his siblings as they made their way out of the house.

He sat there, struggling to wipe away his tears as he clung to Mavis, his beloved twin sister, as his other brothers and sisters tried to get in on the action. They knew how horribly the twins had reacted from being separated for almost four years, but they still wanted to show him they loved him too, causing bumps and nudges to his bad leg as everyone tried to get in to at least greet their last sibling to finally come home. His brothers knelt beside him and hugged him and Mavis tight, his other sisters squeezing their way in to welcome him home. He was getting pats on the back and kisses from a mix of all of them, too caught up in it all to notice his two oldest brothers pull away to talk to the Colonel and the others so they didn’t feel awkward from Newkirk’s own personal mobbing. 

John David Newkirk the Third was the oldest of the gaggle of Newkirk children and was a Lieutenant of Royal Navy. He shook everyone’s hand, his other sleeve rolled up to show he had no arm below his left elbow, and his younger brother Arthur, the second eldest, was a Sergeant in the Royal Marines and seemed to have a permanent frown etched into his face. They both seemed friendly enough, John shooing the Colonel, Kinch, and Baker towards the house, telling them that their mother has been waiting for them all and has been dying for new faces. Arthur followed behind slowly, pausing only to ruffle Peter’s hair once as he passed by.

“So, you’re Colonel Hogan? I do believe we have met previously, though this is my first time meetin’ you face to face. It’s a little more private inside,” John says, clapping his hand on Hogan’s back as the colonel helps guide Kinch into the house.

Carter somehow ended up with the two teen-aged sisters of Newkirk’s, Elizabeth and Victoria, batting their eyelashes at him, twisting their hair around their fingers as they asked questions about if he took care of their brother as the poor American tried to keep up with their questions as best he could. They could almost talk more than him and it seemed to baffle him almost as much as it thrilled him.

Lebeau was talking to another sister, Catherine, who was only a few years older than Newkirk and Mavis, and was asking him if they really went to Paris first. She seemed charmed by the little Frenchman’s answers before telling him that he should go inside and rest while dinner is finishing cooking. Lebeau simply agrees, tipping his cap to her and asking if she would mind escorting him inside, which she gladly does.

Newkirk was still sitting on the cracked pavement, clutching his sister Mavis as tight as he can, feeling his youngest sister, Jane, who was barely more than eight, crawl into his lap and bury her face in his chest.

They all look like a right mess, but it feels so good to finally feel whole again that he doesn’t give a single care in the world. Mavis is alright, so were most of the others. A new wave of tears and guilt washed over him as he realized that his last brother and sister wouldn’t be joining them for his long-awaited return.

Carter looks torn, the younger girls dragging him inside the house, but he hears that wet sob from Peter and he wants nothing more than to pull Newkirk into his arms and hush him until it’s all alright.

He takes the hesitant step, then the older of the two sisters, Elizabeth, murmurs that Mavis will take care of it and tugs him towards the house with more strength than he thought possible of a seventeen year old girl.

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

Inside, Anne Newkirk, Peter’s stepmother, is making dinner with her bright red hair tied up into a bun on top of her head. She looks stressed beyond belief and, when Carter and the two girls come to help her, he sees her face and is shocked to see that she’s barely much older than her stepchildren. She can’t be more than thirty-five.

He wipes her hands off on her apron and bows her head down a bit, welcoming Carter into the house and asking if Peter was outside.

“Yes, ma’am, he is-”

“Goodness, where ‘as the time gone? ‘e’s ‘ere already an I’m not even close ta finishin’,” she shoves some hair out of her face and her daughters look at each other before they divide and conquer, cleaning the kitchen. Carter smiles at the woman a bit and offers her to take a minute and to meet everyone, offering her his arm.

“Peter’s outside with Mavis and the littlest sister, I think Beth said her name was Jane?”

Anne just stares before she accepts the arm and lets herself be whirled out into the living room, “Uh, yes, that’s my little Janey. I’m sorry, I’m really not used ta the ‘ouse bein’ so full since the boys all left in ‘41.”

“Oh, that’s alright, ma’am, Peter has told me nothing but good things about you.”

That makes her cheeks go rosey and she looks down, unsure of what to say, but Carter sits her down in one of the moth-eaten chairs and the voices in the room all stop. The older Newkirks all look at the woman, quiet, watching, and the heroes get into a line to introduce themselves and tip their hats to her, Kinch letting Hogan guide him by his elbow.

Slowly, Arthur stands and nods to the men, “I’ll get the girls an we can reintroduce everyone, there are quite a few a us after all.”

He fetches the two girls from the kitchen and brushes himself off before he goes on, nodding to his brother first, “This is John, ‘e’s the eldest, turning thirty-one in two weeks. Served as a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, on the HMS Seraph. This is Catherine, she’s the third oldest, ‘as been a Red Cross nurse stationed ‘ere since we ended up in the war, joined up with Mave outside an our late sister, Eileen. I’m Arthur, Sergeant a the Royal Marines. This is Beth, an this is Vicky, seventeen an fourteen. Outside, we ‘ave Janey, an you all know Peter. Our late brother, Brian, was with the Royal Army, ‘e was a Sergeant as well, ambushed in North Africa with the rest a ‘is platoon.”

Hogan only heard half of what Arthur said, staring at John from the second he heard that he was on Mama Bear’s sub. This man they had worked with closely for three years and they are only just finding out that he is the older brother of one of their comrades.

Everyone slowly starts talking to each other, introducing themselves as they pull seats from everywhere to sit down, Baker and Lebeau squeezing into one chair with Catherine leaning against the armrest while Arthur sits with Victoria and Elizabeth on his lap. Kinch and Hogan make room to sit next John, talking in low tones as Carter sits on the floor to talk to Arthur and the girls in a cheery voice.

It takes another ten minutes or so before the door opens and in limps Newkirk, Mavis holding his crutches in one hand while letting him use her as support. Jane runs in to jump on her mother, only to pause and start acting shy around the strange men she only just noticed in her joy earlier.

Her mother slowly pulls her into her lap, telling her not to be scared, these men were nice and were best friends of her big brother. 

“Yeah, Janey, look at me mate Andrew ‘ere,” Mavis guides Newkirk over to Carter and helps him sit, using Carter to keep his bad leg elevated, “ ‘e’s just as bubbly as you. The Colonel is a giant teddy bear, Louis is great in hide and seek, an Kinch an Baker love kids, look at ‘em.”

She refuses to pull herself from her mother, but that’s quite alright because all eyes drift to the twins in the room. The heroes all can’t believe that this is Mavis, the sister that Newkirk could never shut up about. She has curls spilling out of her bun and her eyes are the same sparkling green as Newkirk’s, she also has such a kind, cheerful smile that, if you looked at it from the right angle, had the same mischievous glint her brother’s did. In fact, the two of them looked so oddly similar that it was off-putting to the heroes, except for Carter, who seemed to be enjoying himself, his hand on Newkirk’s thigh as he turns his attention from Arthur to go right back to talking to Newkirk as if the last half hour didn’t just have them separated.

The older siblings all can’t take their eyes off of Newkirk, Catherine glancing at John and Arthur, knowing that the other two were thinking the same thing she was. 

Carter’s free arm was looped around Newkirk as a support for him, Mavis on the other side to offer more support, her head on her brother’s shoulder as Newkirk introduces her to the heroes. 

“Mave, that’s the Colonel Hogan, then on the other side is James Kinchloe, that’s Louis Lebeau an Richard Baker on the chair, an this is Andrew Carter-”

“Andrew Carter? Like the little brother a Dorothy Carter?” Mavis asks, glancing over at Carter from around her twin.

Newkirk’s grip on Carter tightens just a bit and he glances at Carter, just to get a stiff smile, “Yeah. I hoped to run into her at home, I guess I didn’t realize she was still in England.”

“I can get ‘er to come over now, she’s probably on ‘er way to her apartment now anyways, poor thing doesn’t do much lately, she does ‘ang out with Rita an Robert a lot though. She must be worried sick about you,” Mavis says as she gets up to call up Carter’s sister.

Carter stands up as well and hoists Newkirk up with him, handing him his crutches as he goes to talk to Mavis, leaving Newkirk standing there awkwardly before he goes to give his older siblings handshakes to more or less congratulate them for making it home in one piece, well, in most cases but John’s at least.

He kisses Elizabeth and Victoria on the head, then puts down one crutch to help pull his stepmom into a one-armed hug. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his head, squeezing him tight into the hug.

John leans over and tells the Colonel that Newkirk never really got along too well with the poor woman, his voice dropping to a low mutter, “Da married ‘er a week after mum died, she never even knew ‘e was married with kids. Pete ran off to join the circus with Mave an Brian for three years, then Cat dragged ‘em back by their ears.”

When Mrs. Newkirk lets go of her stepson, Mavis and Carter return, “Hey, Newkirk. Mavis and I are gonna go meet up with my sister, wanna come with us while dinner is getting finished up?”

Newkirk looks at the two of them, then turns to everyone to excuse himself before he heads after them.


	6. Intermission

_**Louis Auguste Lebeau** _

  * 28 years, born in Bordeux, France
  * Youngest of two children
  * Corporal of the Free French Air Force until being shot down May 13, 1941 and being sent to Stalag 13
  * Joined the operation Sept. 17, 1943
  * Likes:  
Women  
Wine  
Bickering with Newkirk
  * Dislikes:  
Blood  
Tight Spaces  
His Ex-wife
  * Dirty little secret:  
He's a mama's boy through and through



**********_Jean-Philippe Baptiste Lebeau_ **  
****

  * 32 years old, born in Bordeux, France
  * Oldest of two children
  * Sergeant of the Free French Air Force, agent of the French Underground
  * Knew of the operation and his brother's involvement in it due to working alongside it
  * Likes:  
Reading  
Roses  
Good coffee
  * Dislikes:  
Rude people  
Blood  
Beer
  * Interesting fact:  
Can speak 7 languages, 6 very fluently (in order, French, English, Hebrew, Spanish, Italian, German, and Russian)



******************_Amarisa (Clouatre) Lebeau_ **  
****

  * 51 years old, born in Paris, France
  * Mother of two
  * Knows nothing of the operation and has no idea either of her sons were spies
  * Likes:  
Walking barefoot  
Getting dressed up  
Listening to her boys sing
  * Dislikes:  
People in her kitchen  
Things around her neck; necklaces, scarves  
Tulips
  * Interesting fact:  
She married her husband against her family's wishes. He wasn't wealthy and wasn't handsome, but she fell in love with him for who he was and was disowned just before WWI started. They were married before he went off to war and the rest was history.



**************************_Fabien Jacques Lebeau_ **  
****

  * Deceased at 49 years old in Paris, France, born in Bordeux, France
  * Father of two
  * Corporal of the French Enlisted Army in WWI
  * Likes:  
Roses  
His wife's cooking  
Helping people
  * Dislikes:  
Restrictive clothing  
Bullies  
Cheaters
  * Interesting fact:  
He was an orphan by the time he was 15, but he stayed in his parent's home and worked as a gardener and handyman for the Clouatre family nearby. He soon fell hard for the eldest daughter and they were married against her family's wishes. When the war started, he planted a rose bush before he was to be sent off, telling his wife and his first infant son he would be safe as long as the bush was alive. 30 years later, it was planted by his grave.



********************************_**Maurice Felice Dubois **  
****_

  * 30 years old, born in Fontainebleau, France
  * Married to Alice Orlandi
  * Lieutenant of the Air Force of France until June 20, 1940, then was recruited by Tiger 2 days before France surrendered and stayed with the French Underground ever since
  * Knew of the whole operation through London before his first meeting of the heroes
  * Likes:  
Looking at the night sky  
Tacky wallpaper  
Making up cheesy pet names for his wife on the spot
  * Dislikes:  
The color orange  
Winter  
Klink's ego
  * Dirty little secret:  
He's a blanket thief.



****************************************_**Alice Estelle (Orlandi) Dubois **  
****_

  * 31 years old, born in Die, France
  * Married to Maurice Dubois
  * Was a field nurse until France surrendered on June 22, 1940, then was recruited accidentally in May, 1941 to the French Underground due to her nurse training, has stayed ever since
  * Knew of the whole operation when her husband returned from Stalag 13
  * Likes:  
Putting people on edge  
Working hands-on  
Making people laugh
  * Dislikes:  
Cowardice  
Vanity  
Disrespectful people
  * Dirty little secret:  
She always wanted to punch a Nazi in the face, but held back because she knew it could blow their operation, especially in her position.



**************************************************_Marie Louise Monet (Tiger)_ **  
****

  * 27 years old, born in Giverny, France
  * Joined the French Underground in September 1940, not long after it's conception and, within three years, became the head of it
  * Knew of the operation fully through London and cooperated with them until she needed to go to them personally and see it for herself
  * Likes:  
Rain  
Hot tea  
The smell of colonge
  * Dislikes:  
Stubborness  
Idiocy  
Nylons
  * Dirty little secret:  
She is almost never sure if she wants to kiss Hogan or give him a piece of her mind at any point in time.



**********************************************************_Carol Dukes (Kumasa)_ **  
****

  * 24 years old, born in Ann Arbor, MI, USA
  * Joined the French Underground in late July, early August, 1944 when Kinch and Hogan arrived and convinced her to keep the faith
  * Found out all the details of the operation when Kinch had been relieved of his duties at Stalag 13
  * Likes:  
Adding dramatic flair  
Quiet evenings in  
Expensive things that she could have never afforded back home
  * Dislikes:  
Being told what to do  
Being talked down to  
Gunfire
  * Dirty little secret:  
She is the one with ice cold feet and likes to wake Kinch up with them.



******************************************************************_Christian Meyers_ **  
****

  * 26 years old, born in Kingston, NY, USA
  * Captain of the US Army
  * Knows nothing about the operation at Stalag 13, but knows it's a military secret
  * Likes:  
Strong Liqueurs  
The smell of fresh coffee  
Daffodils
  * Dislikes:  
Too-long car rides  
Violin music  
Summer
  * Interesting fact:  
He was given the ultimatum, go to jail or join up and ended up graduating a Captain.



**************************************************************************_Charles Stanhope_ **  
****

  * 24 years old, born in Liverpool, England
  * Lieutenant of the Royal Army
  * Knows nothing of the operation at Stalag 13, but knows it's a military secret
  * Likes:  
The smell of cigarettes  
Scotch  
Autumn
  * Dislikes:  
Having his hair touched  
Nervous tapping  
Holding a gun
  * Interesting fact:  
He knew Newkirk's deceased brother.




	7. Chapter 7

They make their way halfway down the street when Mavis starts to speak, “Dorothy, I may not have known you long before you switched places with your brother, but I wasn’t really fooled.”

Carter’s heart is in his throat and Newkirk almost stumbles.

“... Mave, please-”

“Peter, you an I used to do this all the time, you think I’m stupid? I’m just sayin’ that I know that they switched.”

Newkirk just stands there, adjusting to stand in front of Carter, “ ‘oo else knows?”

“Rita. She’s engaged to the real Andrew Carter.”

Carter sets his hand on Newkirk’s shoulder as the other man winces visibly, he then starts to ramble to defend himself, “Well, Mavis, you see, Andrew got drafted. He isn’t a fighter, he isn’t a pilot. When he came back from Germany, he was near traumatized, telling me they made a wrong turn when they ran into a German patrol. His eyes were so empty, and they had just been demoted for disobeying orders to return to Stalag 13 and become part of the operations there, not caring about what he had seen.”

“Andrew-”

“I cut my hair and switched places with him. I’m his big sister, I would do anything for him, I even let myself get shot down.-”

“Andrew,” Newkirk tries to turn around to get him to shut up.

“If either of us get caught-”

“Dorothy, I’m not goin; ta tell on you,” she says quietly, looking at Carter with a small smile.

Carter is quiet for a moment, then he looks at her again, all shy as he rubs his arms to try to bring some feeling back to them, “I actually, kinda, you know... Prefer being Andrew now. My parents used to say that my brother and I were winkte... We wanted to be, uh, well, I always was a boy, even though the actual term ‘winkte’ fits him more, you know, a boy who was always a girl. It’s a thing with the Lakota-”

“Oh boy, you’re goin’ ta love Rita,” Newkirk says, interrupting Carter just long enough before he tugs the man close, hesitating just inches from being able to kiss him. He then murmurs that it’s not private enough, pulling away so they don’t get caught.

“You truly are a natural-born coward,” Carter murmurs with the smallest smile on his lips, his hands now fisted in the front of Newkirk’s shirt as he leans down just enough to kiss him like he’s been dying for it for far too long.

Mavis look away to make sure that no one was looking and to give them just a smidge of privacy before the two pull from each other. They stand there for a moment, like they want to do it again, but slowly break apart to continue on their merry little way.

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

The silence is deafening, the only noise being the crunch and rustle of rubble underfoot and the clicks of Newkirk’s crutches. The walk around the block seems to take years, but, suddenly, they are at the Red Lion and Newkirk turns to Carter, telling him to follow him.

No one seems to take notice to them, except one older gentleman near the end of the bar, who just flashes Newkirk the ‘V’ for victory before lifting his glass in a silent toast to him, then looks back at his drink. They get to the dressing rooms and Newkirk knocks on the door gently, unsure of what will happen after not seeing Rita in forever.

He feels Carter’s hand rest on the center of his back and he realizes he hadn’t been breathing for the pause they had before it happens.

The door swings open and a large, muscular woman with her hair done up perfectly in curls, the longest eyelashes, and makeup put on with enough care and precision that it looked like magic throws her arms around Newkirk and kisses his cheek.

“Peter, I thought you were never comin’ home!”

Mavis grins and turns to Carter, “This is Rita.”

“Blimey, Rita, put me down, I’m ‘ere ta get you an your lady friend.”

Newkirk is set down and another woman, who looks almost identical to Carter if it weren’t for the brown eyes, pointy nose, and the bob cut, comes out, just to have her jaw drop, “You’re alive! Oh, golly, thanks so much, Newkirk, I never thought the war would-”

Carter throws his arms around his sibling, practically crushing her.

Mavis stands there patiently, letting the reunions happen, then tells them all that they should sit down so everyone could talk, which the girls agree to readily, pulling them all into the cozy dressing room and shutting the door behind them.

Rita pulls up spots for everyone to sit at, pulling Carter’s sibling onto her lap as she does so. Carter sits next to Newkirk on one side, Mavis on the other. Before Rita could say what she obviously wanted to, Newkirk cuts her off, his one hand sliding into Carter’s, “Rita, I ‘eard you were ‘appy with Dorothy ‘ere. ‘eard that you two were gettin’ married.”

Her smile droops a bit, “I’m very ‘appy, Peter, but I wish we didn’t end like we did.”

He shakes his head, “Rita, it’s done, we grew up, we faced a war, we became different people… I’m glad you’re still doin’ what you love though.”

“... I can’t be Rita Nottin’ham outside this buildin’ anymore, Peter. But it is nice to be her for an hour ‘ere an there,” she fixes her hair for a moment, then carefully pulls off the wig, leaning over Dorothy to put it on the dummy so it stayed perfect, “It’s so strange bein’ Robert Walter, but I can’t say that it is entirely undesirable. It’s wonderful switchin’ between one an the other, I just wish I ‘ad more a a choice when doin’ it. In the times I could at least.”

“You’re a girl and a boy?” Carter asks, his eyes wide as he looks at Rita/Robert.

Newkirk puts an arm around Carter, “She’s always been that way, she just liked it better when I called her Rita.”

“ ‘e used to do the magic rose bouquet to me every single day until I told ‘im I was a man.”

“Joke’s on ‘er, I’ve been a queer for a long time.”

Rita laughs heartily at that, “You could have fooled me, Peter. Now, this is nice an all, but if I'm going ta show off Dorothy here as my future wife, I gotta get dressed. Shoo.”

Newkirk nods and nudges Carter a bit so the two of them and Mavis could give the others some privacy, but Dorothy follows them, her eyes sparkling as she starts babbling at Carter, hands and mouth moving at the speed of light. Carter takes her arm, letting Mavis help Newkirk into a chair at the bar, and talks to his sister in an adoring manner, telling her how beautiful she is and how happy he is that she is happy.

Mavis orders a drink for herself and one for her brother as they watch the two. It's not long before Robert joins them, dressed in a smart RAF uniform with the corporal ranking on it. His face is clean of makeup and looks just as masculine as can be.

He takes off his hat and tips his head to Dorothy, who just grins and tries not to be so bashful, “Rob, there's no point in showing off yet…”

“An’ who said I can't show off my girl just yet? No man nor god can stop me from adorin’ you.”

Newkirk rolls his eyes and orders a scotch, telling the bartender to make it a double, “I gotta walk back ta Stepney with these two, plus me sister an my best mate, who is the bride's brother. I need ta know if you can offer me a triple.”


	8. Chapter 8

They arrived back at the house and everyone was getting settled down for dinner, having to spread it from the dining room table to the coffee table in the living room. Dorothy was shyly showing off her simple engagement ring to the girls at the dining room table, then the men in the living room as she rambled on about how excited their mother had been and how her father had threatened to come to London and personally beat up Robert if he broke her heart. It hadn't been hard to see how she was related to Carter, talking off everyone's ear if they had a second’s conversation.

The heroes liked her enough, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of their minds, almost like that they had met her before. Baker and Kinch wrote it off as having known Carter far too long, but Hogan had a hunch, but he couldn't mention it with so many around that shouldn't know about the operation, so he decided to wait and find out later. 

Carter was talking animatedly to his sister, grinning from ear to ear as he did so, obviously having missed her and was just as excited for her getting married as she was. Newkirk was kind of quiet, which would have been odd if it wasn't for the fact that everyone was focused on the two newest siblings that had been reunited. He kept glancing at Carter in a way that made Lebeau look at him as if he was seeing something for the first time.

“We've known each other for three years, we ran into each other in a bomb shelter and he offered to walk me home when the raid was over. We cut through Berkeley Square and we talked for hours.”

“It wasn't hard to talk that long, she had a lot to say about her family and friends back home,” Robert adds with a grin as he holds her dainty, gloved hand.

She grins and looks away shyly, “After that, we just kept passing each other and, every time we did so, he would accompany me wherever I was going. He was so gentlemanly.”

“Oh, brother,” Newkirk murmurs, which earns him a nudge from Carter.

“I'm glad that you two kids are happy,” John says to pull attention away from Newkirk, “there's nothing like a wedding to help people forget the atrocities of war.”

“So, Robert, what do you do?” Baker asks as he drinks his 

“I actually do the opposite a what you did,” he replies with a grin, “I worked at a prison camp for German POWs.”

“Big step up from where you used to work.”

“Peter, we both used to work at The Red Lion,” he looks towards the heroes, “He was a ruddy excuse for a waiter, but at least he was pretty enough to sell tickets to his magic show.”

Lebeau snorts as the others try to stop grinning.

“He's gotten better with waiting tables since he's gone through Germany,” Lebeau says with a smirk.

“Thank God the Jerries taught him something when he was there.”

“You know, I still ain't opposed to punching you in the nose, even if it's in front a your fianceé.”

“Peter Sheldon Newkirk, that is no way to talk in the presence of a lady,” Mary calls from the other room.

“I thought we all agreed that we can't call Arthur a lady anymore.”

“Newkirk, if any of you boys would be considered a lady, it would be you,” Kinch teases, as he turns to Newkirk.

“He did jump at playing the girl parts in our plays.”

“I most certainly did not, Carter! I was ordered to by my superior officer.”

“Newkirk, I seem to remember you volunteering for those parts myself,” Hogan grins at how Newkirk threatens him with a fork, “Besides, we all liked you best in your basic black.”

“I’m surrounded by a bunch a bloody comedians,” laments Newkirk, listening to his family and friends guffawing at how he threw his hands up in defeat and went back to eating his dinner.

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

As everyone finishes, they clear their plates and migrate to different parts of the house, Newkirk and Carter with Robert and Dorothy on the front porch to ‘say their goodbyes’.

“Alright, so, we all have to remember, no one can have an slip ups, alright? I’m Andrew, this is Dorothy. I’m her brother and she is my sister. Even though the war is over, I don’t want to switch back and neither does she, understood?” Carter says, looking from one person to another.

“That’s fine with me, Andrew, I ‘onestly wouldn’t want it any other way,” Newkirk murmurs, adjusting to sit more comfortably on the stool they brought out to rest his leg on. Robert and Dorothy agree too, Dorothy’s hand slipping into her fiance’s. 

“You all especially don’t tell the Colonel or any of the guys, I don’t want to risk it.” Carter adds, glancing towards the house.

“Carter, it’s goin’ ta be alright. I’ll sooner take myself down than let slip to anyone about you or Dorothy,” Newkirk cups Carter’s cheek as he leans up from where he’s sitting, “I’ll tell the guv I’m a great big ol’ fairy. Probably tell ‘im that I fancied ‘im too, ‘e’ll never think about accusin’ you or anythin’.”

Carter smiles a bit as he lets himself trust his boyfriend, then he looks to Robert and his sister, about to say something, but Robert stops him, “I’ve kept my mouth shut for all a these years about myself, why the ‘ell would I out you, buttercup? We can talk later, I’ve got to go back to the camp in the morn.”

Dorothy hugs her brother tight, promising to visit him the next day as Newkirk shakes hands with Robert. The young couple walks away and, as they round the corner, Carter turns to Newkirk, “... I’ll tell you about Mary-Jane if you tell me about you and Ro-... Rita.”

It’s quiet for a moment, but Newkirk lights up a cigarette and offers one to Carter as he he starts, “So, it all started when I was about thirteen…”


	9. Chapter 9

John Newkirk was sitting nice and neat on the cot on the floor, looking at his brother, Arthur, who was sitting on the chair they had dragged into the room to make more space for the amount of people that were going to be sleeping in one bedroom. Hogan and Kinch were sitting on one of the bunks, their postures almost mirroring the other. Hands clasped, elbows on their knees, and turning from one man to the other. 

Hogan was talking, low, slow, and sure if himself as he looked to the door, “-obviously you know it's all top secret. No one can know. I'm sure London debriefed you all on it. They will eventually decide with America about when it can be revealed to the people and-”

“Colonel, sir, we understand. We know. We ‘ave seen what ‘appens to men when secrets like this get out,” Arthur says solemnly, leaning back in his chair. He pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket, idly taking one out and gesturing with it, “... Too many good people... Women, children… So many innocent… I’m not ready to see another death for the rest a my life, especially after comin’ ‘ome to find out that my little brother an’ sister were dead.”

He puts it in his mouth and lights it before offering the pack to the Americans, both turning them down until Arthur tells them that they’re American cigarettes, “A gift from a friend a mine when he got on a plane home.”

Arthur gives one to each of them, even tossing one down to his brother before he passes around his lighter.

“Thank you, Sergeant. For the cigarette and your discretion. I am also sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Colonel ‘ogan, but I should be thanking you for ‘elping end the war faster, if it weren’t for you, Peter, an’ the rest of your band of merry men. I might ‘ave lost the rest of my siblin’s or even my own life.”

“Arthur, you stormed the beaches of Normandy and watched many a man die for the freedom of the world. For that I salute you,” Kinch says, doing so, Hogan agreeing with him and standing to do it formally.

John just smiles at the men, leaning back against the wall once again, “I just realized, you all may as well ‘ave been on the front lines the ‘ole time the war was goin’ on, yet I’m the only one missin’ a arm.”

“John,-” Arthur starts, but his brother shrugs.

“-I guess they thought I would be more ‘andy elsewhere.”

It’s dead silent for almost a whole minute except for John trying his best not to crack up at his own joke, then Arthur threatens to personally kill him, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache.

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

In the closet in the hall, Newkirk has his one arm wrapped around Carter’s neck, the other bracing himself against the wall. Carter has him pressed firmly against the wall, his one hand holding up Newkirk’s lame leg to his hip while the other hand is buried in his hair. They can’t keep their hands off of each other, struggling to keep their heads and not do anything too stupid. 

Newkirk breaks from the kiss to attempt to remember what it was like to breath again before he buries his face into Carter’s neck, kissing it and tugging him almost desperately towards himself as he forces his brain to remember not to leave any marks.

“Peter-”

Newkirk leans up to kiss his mouth again, sighing into it. He can’t ever remember it feeling like this when he was with Rita, Robert, whatever name they were using in public now. This felt right, like he would be sick and unable to function if he could never get this again. The warm, chapped lips against his own felt like magic, like the kiss he had always dreamed of. His hands shook a bit as he tried to tug Carter closer, trying not to let go of him for a second and press their chests flush. 

Carter breaks the kiss this time and the words just spill out of Newkirk’s mouth, “I’m in love with you, Andrew.”

Carter just stares for a moment, breathing hard, “Boy, I would sure hope so.”

He goes to kiss Newkirk again, just to stop when the Englishman starts shaking in laughter. He has to muffle it with his hand, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries his best to not make too much noise.

“What did I say? Newkirk, stop laughing,” he stares towards the door, knowing they have been gone too long already, and now he has to deal with this.

When Newkirk stops just long enough to speak, he bumps their noses together, “Only you would ruddy up my heart-filled love confession.”

He kisses him again, grinning like a fool as Carter tugs on a handful of his hair in retaliation.

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

Baker was asleep in his bed, having fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was tired from staying up late the night before and not really getting much sleep in general. He had been used to staying up late with the guys, drinking coffee with one of them as he watched the radio. He sometimes would doodle, maybe even write letters to his mother and father, telling them how he never did much and how he missed them. He would tell them about how he made friends and they would play cards and put on plays, or they would trade and share items from their red cross packages, but never about their missions or the fact his life was almost in constant danger for their country.

Now he slept like a log, leaving Lebeau alone, waiting for Carter and Newkirk to come back, but Lebeau knew they weren't coming back for a while, he had that feeling for a while now about what was going on between the two. He couldn't put his finger on it for the longest time, then it hit him like a pile of bricks when they came back with Carter's sister. They were in love.

He's a damned Frenchman, he should have noticed. Hell, he should have known, but here he was, caught off guard by it.

Newkirk had always hinted about not just liking girls, but that was years ago, long before the others came. He used to talk about his girlfriend, Rita, to Lebeau, about how strong she was and how she could manhandle him, but he would never tell the others about her. He told Carter once about her, and Lebeau remembers about how Carter had seemed weird about it, but he had assumed it was because of Mary-Jane, now he knew it was something else entirely.

He slowly stands and brushed his pants off, looking towards Baker, then towards the empty bed that he knew Newkirk and Carter would end up sleeping in, even though he knew Newkirk said he was going to sleep in the other room on the couch. Then he turns on his heel and heads out to grab his bag he had received from the bosses in London, full of the things he had claim to that wouldn't reveal the mission at all.

Armed with a bottle of one of his latest bottles of wine and a glass, he went to the balcony door, just to stop when he looked outside and fetched a second glass.

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

On the balcony of the upper sitting room, Mary sits neatly on the railing, smoking a cigarette as she looks over the remains of the city she once knew. She’s wearing a men’s nightgown, full of patches, and her hair is pinned up carefully in curlers. She tugs her arms closer around herself as she exhales, looking down to see the ashes fall all the way to the ground far below.

She had left the room she once shared with her sisters, Mavis and Eileen, when she was younger, before the war, before her mother died. She was leaving Mavis sound asleep on the bed with Elizabeth, and Victoria asleep on her bed, taking over the half that Mary herself was sleeping on, but it meant nothing to her now. There used to be seven children, then four, then nine, and finally ten. She was always used to sharing rooms and beds, even when she was little. She used to share a room with Newkirk and Mavis when they were very little, taking care of them while her mother worked and her father ran off to do whatever he wanted.

There is a gentle tapping at the glass behind her that pulls her out of her thoughts and, when she looks, she’s met with a bottle of wine and two glasses being gestured at her. Her hand goes to fix her hair before she swings her leg over the railing to open the doors and let Lebeau out to join her.

“You looked lonely, I thought I would offer some company seeing as I can’t sleep.”

She chuckles lowly, setting her cigarette in a crack in the stonework so it didn’t blow away, “Well, ain’t you a lovely little gentleman?”

“It’s a curse,” he answers, shrugging at how unfortunate it was, then opens the bottle, “I hope you like this, it’s aged a whole two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

“We made it ourselves, such a lovely thing.”

“Oh, ‘ow charmin’. I ‘ope you didn’t let Peter make any, ‘e doesn’t ‘ave any patience.”

“I would sooner sell my soul then let him attempt to make French wine again.”

She laughs once again and agrees to share some with him, “Sorry about bein’ so underdressed for such fine company.”

“Non-sens, mon chere,” he says as he offers her a glass, propping the other on the railing so he could open the bottle, “There was a war on, you know, and I haven't had many different outfits to wear in the last five years.”

Mary smiles and hands him her glass to fill, “Well, then we must toast to the end of the war.”

He fills his own glass after her’s and nods, lifting it, “Oui. To the end of the war. Enfin.”

They toast and she retakes her spot where she was sitting before, picking up her cigarette to relight it, but Lebeau already has a lighter ready for her, then lights his own. The two sit there in silence, gazing out at the lights once again.

“.... You know, it used to be prettier before the war.”

“Hm?”

“London. It was prettier before the war.”

Lebeau sighs, “So was Paris. Then the filthy bosche got their hands on it.”

“Damned Jerries. They ruined it all,” she says with such venom in her voice that it would make anyone flinch. She flicks her cigarette over the edge in anger, then sighs before drinking her wine.

“The last time I saw Paris, well, it was just like the song. Spring time, people walking through the streets. I may never forget it. I had just left home after arguing with my father the night before. There was dew on the grass and the sun was catching on the glass from the decorations maman always hated because they scared the birds. I remember thinking that I was doing this as revenge, that I was doing it to protect my home.”

“I wanted to join the army and do the same. The only reason I didn't was because Anne can't take care of the kids by herself. Da ran off as soon as Churchill declared war,” she spit over the side of the balcony.

“Lovely,” Lebeau says as he finishes his wine.

“Sorry I ain't very ladylike for-”

“Non, non, I don't care about that. I meant your father fleeing. Did he not care about your country? I mean-”

“No, ‘e was the biggest coward I knew. Bloody pain in me rear end, ‘e was. Good riddance to that bastard. ‘e died an Anne wanted ‘im to be buried next to mum.”

Lebeau stops for a second and goes to apologize. For what, he's not entirely sure. For her father running off or for him passing, either way. Maybe for her stepmother wanting to bury him next to their mother that they obviously thought more of than their sorry excuse for a father, but Catherine waves him off.

“ ‘e doesn't deserve your sorry. ‘e deserves to keep burnin’ where ‘e ended up. Poor woman didn't know what she was gettin’ ‘erself into with ‘im.”

“Well, then I'm sorry for you, having to go through that, chere.”

She chuckles at that and he offers her more wine, “You're a sweet’eart, Louis. But I dont need your sorry either. It's all done now.”

They sit in silence for a moment and she lifts her glass when it's full, “To England. An’ to France. May they be beautiful again.”

He joins her toast, agreeing with her before they delve into softer conversation to go with their wine.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning is gloomy and dreary. It's raining and a thick fog is hanging heavily over the city. 

Lebeau wakes up to Newkirk and Carter straightening up their beds, Newkirk stopping Carter for just a moment to fix his tie with a soft grumble, “Yer just a mess, ain't ya?”

“But at least you love me, right, Peter?”

Newkirk stops for a moment to make sure Lebeau and Baker are still asleep, then he kisses him softly. Lebeau feels his heart in his throat as Newkirk replies quietly, “You know I do.”

They separate and Baker wakes up, his eyes still closed as he complains, “Why is it so cold? Germany was warmer than this.”

“Welcome to England, mate. ‘ow would you like your cuppa this morn?”

They meet Kinch in the hall, using the wall as a guide to go to the bathroom. 

“Mornin’ Kinch. It's the second door on your left, the first is the girls’ bedroom an i don't feel up ta ‘earin’ ‘em scream first thin’ in the morn.”

“Here's hoping I don't see anything I'm not supposed to.”

“You better ‘ope you see nothin’ because- Oi, you cheeky bugger.”

“And who said I don't have a sense of humor?” Kinch says with a grin before making his way to the bathroom and knocking to check to see if it's empty.

Baker stays to help Kinch down the stairs when he's done while Lebeau, Carter, and Newkirk head to the kitchen, where John and Anne are drinking coffee quietly. John smiles at the men and lifts his mug to them, “ ‘bout time you got up. Mave an Cat already went ta work. The other girls went ta school.”

“Mavis left without wakin’ me up?”

“Pete, she said you looked dead tired, besides, Artie took ‘em ta the ‘ospital. It's not like they went alone,” John replies with a firm look.

The door opens, as if on cue, and Arthur comes in with a bag, talking to himself like a grouchy old man, “... Two tins a beans, some flour… Yeah, that should be enough for today. Maybe I'll get more tomorrow, or I can get more when I- Oh, mornin’ everyone. ‘ow did you sleep? ‘opefully it wasn't too cramped. We really should-”

Newkirk sits next to John, “It was fine, Artie. We did spend the war in a sardine can after all.”

“Delicious,” John says with smile and Newkirk makes a face at him before turning back to Arthur, who's heading to the kitchen.

“Before you ask, no, I'm not cookin’, Peter. We all know I'm not much better than you. Mum-”

“Here, let me. Mademoiselle, you stay seated, I love to cook and it's the least I can do,” Lebeau says, taking the bag from Arthur and heading to the kitchen, “Andre, I require a waiter, if you don't mind.”

“Oh, sure, Louis,” Carter agrees and follows him to help make breakfast.

Arthur heads upstairs to get Hogan up, telling him that everyone else was already at breakfast and he nods before hopping off the top bunk to get dressed. 

Baker and Kinch join everyone at the table, talking to each other comfortably before wishing their good mornings and taking a seat. Carter comes in with a tray of mugs and starts handing them out to everyone who wanted coffee, then returns with a pot of fresh coffee, the good stuff they brought with them from the Stalag and Anne and John quickly changed their minds about not wanting any. 

Soon the conversation at the table is on a happy note, everyone talking lively just at the crack of dawn. Hogan comes down the stairs, combing his fingers through his hair and he's welcomed to the world of the living with a hot cup of coffee put in his hands just as he sits down.

“Thank God we won't have any civilian coffee for a little while at least,” he murmurs as he takes a grateful swig.

“The coffee in England ain't too bad, it's not rationed or anythin’ because we prefer our tea more than it,” Arthur says as he takes a seat next to the Colonel.

“In that case, I might need to take some home with me, because I know America just has colored water at this point if the accounts are anything to go by.”

When breakfast comes out, there’s fried spam and eggs and potato pancakes on the side. Lebeau comes on out with his chef hat and apron on over top of his dress uniform and he places the tray with preserves and bread in the middle of the table. 

“Oh my goodness, Mr. Lebeau, this is lovely,” Anne says she looks it over.

“Merci, madam.”

“You should've seen what he did with just the things we had at the camp.”

“Andrew's right, he did amazing things with red cross packages,” Kinch confirms then he lets Lebeau serve him.

“You're too kind, Kinch. I was a decent cook.”

“Louis-”

“I'm joking, we all know I'm the best chef you have ever met,” Lebeau says as he serves everyone.

Newkirk smirks as Carter sits next to him, “Says you, Louis.”

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

The car picks them up at six sharp and they head to the intelligence office, Newkirk's head against the window, “God, I missed these lovely England mornin’s. It's beautiful, that's what it is.”

“If this is a nice morning in London, I hate to see what a bad day is,” Lebeau murmurs to Carter, which earns him a grin and a rude gesture from Newkirk.

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

“Men, we cannot thank you enough for your service to your countries. However, you all understand why we cannot publically grant you your promotions, of course. You will receive your medals now as well, I hope that is not a problem,” General Aloysius Barton says solemnly, “We are also aware about how informal this all is, but, given the circumstances... “

“We understand, sir,” Hogan says, his hands folded behind his back as the men next to him remain silent. They are arranged by rank, Hogan on the far left, followed by Carter, Kinch, Baker, Lebeau, then finally Newkirk on the far right.

General Tillman Walters starts with promoting Colonel Hogan to Lieutenant General with a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, like he knew that this step was not going to last long, soon Hogan would overtake even his own rank. He then carried on to promote Carter to a First Lieutenant then Kinch to a Captain, pausing for a moment as he puts the new insignia on the man to tell him exactly what his new rank was as he was being awarded it. Baker became a Technical Sergeant while Lebeau became a Sergeant and Newkirk became a Warrant Officer. The men stayed at attention, shaking Walters’ hand after he promoted them, but not saying a word. 

General Felix Mercer followed after Walters had finished, awarding Hogan with a Distinguished Flying Cross that he pins next to the Legion of Merit that already sat on his uniform and saluting him after he’s done with it. Carter receives an Air Medal and a Purple Heart, looking kind of nervous about the second pin that was presented to him, but says nothing as Mercer continues on to pin a Purple Heart on Kinch as well, dictating aloud to him, “Captain James Kinchloe, the purple heart for losing your sight in the line of service for your country. “

“Thank you, sir,” Kinch replies, saluting the General.

“Son, we should thank you for your dedication to your work and your pure patriotism, I would like to shake your hand if you don’t mind.”

Kinch puts out his hand and Mercer shakes it firmly, clasping it with his second when he’s done before letting go and moving on to award Baker an Air Medal, Lebeau a Médaille de la Résistance and a Croix du combattant volontaire de la Résistance; and Newkirk the Wounded Stripe and an Air Force Medal.

When the men had all been promoted and awarded medals, Walters came forward and awarded each of the Americans a Medal of Honor, telling them it was a direct order from the President himself. Mercer then awarded Lebeau a Croix de Guerre, telling him that General De Gaulle personally wanted him to have it and that he had talked to the man himself. The men then looked at Newkirk before the door opens and a man who had been in hiding for almost a year, Colonel Rodney Crittendon, entered. 

Everyone falls into a shocked silence, save for Baker, who mutters in disbelief, “I thought he ran off with Lady Chitterly.”

That makes Kinch realize who it is and he keeps a straight face to hide his own anguish at meeting this man again.

However something seemed off about Crittendon, he held himself like an actual military man, striding into the room like he owned the place. Barton holds out a box to him and he nods to him before he opens it to pull out a Victoria Cross. He turns to Newkirk, “Officer Peter Newkirk, I have been in audience with the king for the last hour, and he sends his deepest sympathies that he is unable to be here at this moment, but he has commanded me to come here and award you this medal on his behalf. So, it is with great honor that I bestow upon you this medal of our greatest honor, the Victoria Cross.”

He pins the medal on Newkirk and salutes him, “I am so proud to be in the same army as you, my boy. Now, I don't ‘ave long, my wife an I need to get back to our base, but do pop in for a cuppa when this dreadful thing is over, will you?”

“... Yessir,” Newkirk says when he remembers how to speak, but Crittendon is already gone.

“Now, Gentlemen, we have decided to divulge to you the answer to the one question I know you all have been wondering throughout the war. The identity of Nimrod.”

They are lead into the next room and are met with not one man, but four.

Klink, Shultz, Hochstetter, and Burkhalter all saluted the men when they walk into the room and try not to seem amused by the dumbstruck looks on the heroes faces.

“There is no way this is possible,” Hogan says, trying to come to terms with the fact that almost every single person they thought couldn't have been Nimrod was Nimrod, “How on earth did you all pull it off and not have us catch on?”

“You’re all German though,” Newkirk protests.


	11. Chapter 11

Klink clicks his heels together in a German salute, “General Hogan, I lived in America for most of my younger teenage years because my father wanted to give us a better life. Then I returned to Germany in order to fight for them in the great war after my father passed. I had to defect to the Allied side when the Nazis came after my ailing mother and younger brother as they started rounding up the Jews. I would do anything for them, so I have been loyal to England and to the Allies for ten years now.”

Hogan looked at the others, “Burkhalter? Hochstetter? Shultz?”

“General Hogan, all of us defected for the same reason. After all, who can play Nazis better than us Jews?” Shultz says with a shrug, “I’m a toymaker, not a soldier. I got my children out of Germany the second I found out what was happening. I was approached by the Allies when I was caught smuggling families to the Swiss border with my wares.”

“As hard as it sounds, General, we all had to be pretty convincing in order to fool everyone. Not one of us knew who the other Nimrods were, so we were all on our own. That way if one of us got caught, the real Nazis would think that was it. Or at least, they never would guess that there was four of us together-”

“Klink, I think that’s enough, he might just explode,” Burkhalter says, shaking his head slowly.

“He's taking it better than you did when you found out it was Klink too, General,” Hochstetter says snidely, to which Burkhalter grimaced. 

“My acting abilities are far too advanced for either of you,” Klink says with an unbearable air of being the most vain man on the planet. He must have been only acting just a bit if this is what he's like normally.

“Glad to see you're modest and kind in real life, Colonel,” Hogan says finally after he gets over his shock.

“Unfortunately we've been listening to his kind and modest rants about himself for an hour,” Schultz tells Hogan under his breath, which makes the man grin, glad that Shultz was still Shultz no matter what.

“Schultzie, that's no way to talk to your superior officer,” Newkirk chides as he and the heroes make their way to the seats opposite of the men known as Nimrod, Baker guiding Kinch. 

“I quite agree,” Klink pouts disapprovingly.

It's quite for a pause as everyone sits, then Hochstetter leans back, his hands folded, “All evidence was destroyed? Tunnels and all? Nothing was left unattended to?”

“We made sure of it as we left, Major,” Baker says, still uneasy and unsure of what to make of all of this.

It falls into another awkward silence, the heroes sitting stiffly in their seats, trying not to squirm from the unbearable discomfort of animosity and burning questions on both sides.

“.... Hogan. I have always wondered, what was the actual layout of the tunnels?” Klink asks softly, breaking the tension.

Hogan is quiet for a moment, then he shakes his head, “They spanned the entirety of the camp. We had more ways in and out than you could imagine.”

“How many men did you get out?” Hochstetter inquires before Hogan could elaborate.

“Four thousand, three hundred eighty-four Allied soldiers, a hundred ninety-three German enemies of state, civilians and non-Germans; and fifty-seven German soldier defectors,” Newkirk rambles off, as if he had remembered the numbers like a second nature.

“Add another two hundred and seventy for the men in the camp, Newkirk,” Hogan tells him as he looks at Hochstetter.

“That's almost five thousand men,” Burkhalter says, looking impressed.

“And women,” Klink adds, “my wife was one of them.”

“Your what? Klink, I can believe that you are a English soldier working undercover, but you're married too?”

“Why on Earth are you so surprised, Hogan? I was a regular lady’s man.”

Burkhalter bursts out laughing, while Hochstetter looks just as baffled as Hogan and the heroes.

“What? What did I say? Lili and I have been married for years!” Klink says in defense, crossing his arms.

“Lili? Lili who?”

“Lili von Schlichter, you got her out of Germany in a plane from the camp.”

“You're married to- You're married to the Baroness Lili von Schlichter?” Hogan looks absolutely out of his environment.

“I don't see what the problem is, Hogan.”

“Cor, I think we need the Generals to come back an give us a strong drink in order to get through this,” Newkirk murmurs to Baker and Carter, Lebeau agreeing with him from Carter’s other side.

“Gentlemen, I think we all need to take a step back and start from the beginning. Colonel- I mean, General, we can get back to you and Klink after we actually hear about project Nimrod and the men behind it, how does that sound?” Kinch interrupts, one hand on Hogan’s arm as he turns to have his face towards the Germans.

Hogan nods, then says aloud that he agrees with that idea. He sits back and looks at the men across from them, taking a breath to relax.

“Shultzie, did you send your kids ‘ere alone? I’ve seen your wife when we were in the Stalag, unless that wasn’t your wife.”

“Nien, that was my Gretchen. We sent our little ones to live in Bedford with my cousin and her husband. We got to see all of them last night and my little Rosa started crying because she missed us dearly.”

Newkirk smiles a bit, “Me sister was the same way when I saw ‘er last night too.”

“You cried too, Newkirk,” Baker tells him, but he gets a sideways glance and doesn’t continue.

“I am loyal to Germany, but what the Nazis did to it was unforgivable,” Burkhalter starts, which instantly draws all eyes to him, “I didn't care what Hitler was doing to the country at first, they were just words and petty crimes. I didn't think that a man with just words could do what he ended up doing.”

He pauses for a moment, unsure of how to go on, then just continues, “I was assigned to oversee the development of a airfield and I just happened to pass by one of trucks on it’s way to a camp. I thought it was a POW camp or maybe just a jail. They were changing the flat they had, but they had everyone lined up, all their prisoners, guns pointed at them. Then, they were dragging in women and children by their hair, laughing as if it was a game as they got them back into the vehicle. I was horrified, disgusted. A man fell and they beat him to death when he didn't get up on his own. I ordered my car to be stopped and they asked me to join in on it.”

“That truck never made it to the camp. Those men were found buried in a ditch on the side of the road. One of them cut my face open, another shot me, but I got my victory. Their prisoners were picked up by the underground in Belgium and I found myself volunteering in the ranks of the London Special Operations before I even knew what was happening. I have been a plant for the Allies ever since.”

There is another uneasy quiet as the men all slowly turned to the last man who hasn't told his part of his story yet. The deafening silence grows and grows until he speaks up.

“Well, I guess I should tell you my story, seeing as I'm the only one left,” Hochstetter says, adjusting in his seat uncomfortably, “I was born in Brighton, England-”

“You're a native Englishman?” Carter says before he could control himself, but he shuts up instantly and covers his mouth with his hands.

Hochstetter is silent for a moment after, looking almost sick, then he continues, “I was born to German parents during the first war. We returned to Germany when I was very young because our neighbors were… Less than hospitable to our kind of foreigners.”

His eyes glance at Newkirk, but then he fixes his gloves, “I only joined the Allies when the Nazis took my Gerta. My name isn't even really Hochstetter, it's Caine. I killed the real Captain Hochstetter and his brother, the Luftwaffe General Hochstetter after they murdered my wife and tried to drag me and my daughters to a camp. I took his place and was promoted to a Major when I returned and told them my version of a story. My girls are in Switzerland with my parents until this mess is all cleared up.”

“I will see if we can get something to drink in here,” Lebeau says, standing up and brushing his pants off.

“I'll go with you, Louis,” Newkirk says as he goes to stand, reaching for his crutches, but Carter gets up instead.

“I'll help Louis, Newkirk. I'll even make sure to get some of the good whiskey, you all just sit tight.”

The two men disappear out of the room and Kinch talks gently to lessen the tension, asking softly in German if Hochstetter and Shultz would like to talk about their children, “At least until we all have something to cool our nerves. Then we can talk about what your branch was for, if you men don't mind.”

“I have no idea how we ever did it without you, Kinch,” Hogan says, taking off his hat and combing his fingers through his hair.

What a day this was, and it has barely started yet.


	12. Intermission

**_Peter Sheldon Newkirk _ **

  * 24 years old, born in Stepney, England
  * Seventh child of ten, twin brother of Mavis Newkirk
  * Corporal of the Royal Air Force until engine failure Aug. 7, 1941 and being sent to Stalag 13
  * Joined the operation Sept. 17, 1943
  * Likes:  
Being theatric  
Girls and Boys  
Bickering with Lebeau
  * Dislikes:  
Legitimate fighting  
His father  
People who threaten his friends and family
  * Dirty little secret:  
He knows the names of every single man to ever die in and for Stalag 13 and made sure that every single one of their families knew they died fighting for what was right.



 

**_John David Newkirk III_ **

  * 30 years old, born in Kingston upon Thames, England
  * Eldest child of ten
  * Lieutenant of the Royal Navy, serving on the HMS Seraph
  * Knew of the operation and worked alongside his brother from the sub without even knowing his brother was a part of it
  * Likes:  
Coffee  
Quiet mornings  
Being near the ocean
  * Dislikes:  
Being babied for being disabled  
His father  
People who threaten his friends and family
  * Dirty little secret:  
He was in love with Anne's younger sister, Mildred, but his father married Anne and he never had the chance to even propose to Mildred. She then died not long after John lost his arm.



 

**_Arthur Richard Newkirk _ **

  * 29 years old, born in Kingston upon Thames, England
  * Second child of ten
  * Sergeant of the Royal Marines
  * Knew of the rumors of the operation, but only knew they were true when he met Colonel Hogan in the flesh
  * Likes:  
Tea  
Fairytales  
Traveling
  * Dislikes:  
Blood  
Death  
Water
  * Interesting Fact:  
He has never been in love. He has never felt romantic or sexual desire towards anyone, but he did have a purely platonic love for his best friend he met in the Marines, who was part of the USMC, a Sergeant Alfred Jones, who left him a pack of cigarettes after being wounded and sent home.



 

**_Mary Catherine Newkirk_ **

  * 28 years old, born in Kingston upon Thames, England
  * Third child of ten
  * Nurse in the Red Cross since Mar. 22, 1941
  * Heard rumors of Stalag 13 from the wounded, but only knew they were true when she met Colonel Hogan in the flesh
  * Likes:  
Being independent  
Being in charge  
Knitting
  * Dislikes:  
Death  
Housework  
Gardening
  * Interesting Fact:  
She was engaged to Barry Ford (Hercules), and keeps a candle in her window for him, even though he is since passed. She feels like her budding crush on Lebeau is cheating on Barry.



 

**_Eileen Louise Newkirk _ **

  * Deceased at 25 years old in London, England, born in Hayes, Middlesex, England
  * Fourth child of ten
  * Nurse in the Red Cross until her death on Sept. 15, 1943
  * Knew of the rumors of Stalag 13, but never confirmed them
  * Likes:  
Flowers  
Doilies  
Housework
  * Dislikes:  
Violence  
Idiots  
Being flirted with
  * Interesting Fact:  
She was the only child not to hold any animosity towards Anne after what her father did to their mother.



 

**_Brian Joseph Newkirk_ **

  * Deceased at 23 years old in Carthage, Tunisia, born in Hayes, Middlesex, England
  * Fifth child of ten
  * Sergeant of the Royal Army until his death Feb. 18, 1943
  * Knew of the operation and was actively on his way to Capizzio, Italy with his platoon when ambushed and killed
  * Likes:  
Standing up for what is right  
Doing party tricks  
Making friends
  * Dislikes:  
Bullies  
Drinking  
His father and stepmother
  * Interesting Fact:  
He was the one to suggest him, Peter, and Mavis run off to join the circus when he was ten and the twins were nine, then he became the acrobat while they became a magician’s assistant and a dancer respectively.



 

**_Mavis Rose Newkirk_ **

  * 24 years old, born in Stepney, England
  * Sixth child of ten, twin sister of Peter Newkirk
  * Nurse in the Red Cross since Mar. 15, 1941
  * Knew of the rumors of Stalag 13 and of a Newkirk that worked there, but only had them confirmed when Peter told her
  * Likes:  
Warm weather  
Cold drinks  
Going barefoot
  * Dislikes:  
Her father  
Death  
Roses
  * Dirty little secret:  
She and all her living older siblings knew from the second that Newkirk and Carter started interacting when they arrived at the house that the two were in love.



 

**_Elizabeth Joanna Newkirk _ **

  * 17 years old, born in Stepney, England
  * Eighth child of ten
  * Part of the British Women's Land Army, growing produce for Britian between classes at school since Apr. 24, 1944
  * Did not know of the operations at Stalag 13
  * Likes:  
Gardening  
Star gazing  
Mathematics
  * Dislikes:  
Bullies  
The conflict between her older half-siblings and her parents  
Men who act like pigs
  * Interesting Fact:  
She convinced her mom to get chickens and rabbits to help feed the family and she names every single one, then sells the feathers and skins from them after they use them as different jewelry and clothing pieces to help support them when she isn't working.



 

**_Victoria Rachel Newkirk_ **

  * 14 years old, born in Stepney, England
  * Ninth child of ten
  * Did not know of the operations at Stalag 13
  * Likes:  
Doing everything Elizabeth does  
Tending to their little farm when her sister is working  
Telling stories to the kids at Jane's school
  * Dislikes:  
Being told ‘No’  
Household chores  
Thunder storms
  * Interesting Fact:  
She is a fantastic radio and phone operator, self taught from books and a trial of errors.



 

**_Jane Hannah Newkirk_ **

  * 8 years old, born in Stepney, England
  * Youngest child of ten
  * Did not know of the operations at Stalag 13
  * Likes:  
The story of Peter Pan  
Daisies  
Chickens
  * Dislikes:  
Loud noises  
The dark  
Being alone
  * Interesting Fact:  
Her favorite brother is Peter because he is magic, flies, and is mischevious, just like her favorite book character.




	13. Chapter 13

The men are all seated in the room with drinks in their hands, talking in a more comfortable air as they were all split in little groups. It seemed almost like it was a casual meeting between friends, not at all like they had thought of each other as enemies literally an hour before.

Lebeau, Shultz, and Newkirk were talking and laughing as they talked about their families, telling stories and looking at the abundance of photos that Shultz had tucked away in his wallet.

“This is my Rosa and her big brother, Klaus, and this is Violett with Ludwig when they were babies. This is all of them together for Passover, little Beatrix is never looking at the camera, my sweet little girl. Hates photos so much… Oh, and here’s my little nephews, Wolfie and Gilbert, such darling things, but that Gilbert gets into so much trouble, his face is too sweet to punish, though.”

“They are ‘andsome little devils, I wish my parents took more pictures a us- Oh, look at the little bugger there, ‘e’s so ‘appy in this one.”

“They’re so dirty, I can only imagine the trouble they had just gotten into,” Lebeau adds, pointing to a picture with all four of the boys covered in mud with the biggest grins on their faces, arms over each other’s shoulders.

Shultz laughs and looks at the picture fondly, “They went exploring and came back to show us what they found. They had three toads, a pair of snails, and a handful of funny looking rocks. I told my wife and my cousin that I knew nothing about them changing clothes.”

“You big softy.”

“Schultz ‘ere ‘as never seen anythin’ in ‘is life,” Newkirk says as he elbows Lebeau gently.

“I’ve always had a soft spot for little boys who get into big trouble,” Schultz defends himself before taking a sip from his beer.

”Is it because you are one too?” Lebeau asks with a grin.

Schultz goes to deny it, but Newkirk answers for him, “ ‘e sees ‘imself in us, ‘e ‘as a massive toy factory, worked as a traitor ‘oo was also technically a spy, an’ ‘elped save ‘undreds a people while pretendin’ ‘e didn’t see any monkey business so ‘e could get away with ‘is own.”

“I guess that actually makes Schultz more of a troublemaker than us.”

“Blimey, Louis, you're right. Ol’ Schultzie ‘ere is a bad influence on us, ‘e is.”

Lebeau tsks at Schultz and clasps his drink in both hands, “Tu es un monstre. We were angels before you took over the Stalag.”

“For shame, Schultz, an ‘ere we were thinkin’ a you like a father.”

“You two sit there and you think that I will fall for this, but, you are wrong. I did not play dumb for years just to be pulled into this nonsense all over again. Now, we talk about the important things, when will you boys be able to come over to have dinner with my family?”

“When you come over an’ ‘ave it with mine, Schultzie.”

“Oui, and mine, mon amie.”

 

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

 

Hogan and Kinch were talking with Klink and Burkhalter, holding their drinks but not quite drinking from them as they got deeper into conversation.

“Enough about me and Lili. What about you, Sergeant- uh, Captain?”

“What about me, Colonel?”

“You had lost your sight doing whatever it is that you did, which I am not certain it was from Barrake four collapsing like you all said it was, and then I sent you to a hospital, just for you to escape on the way there.”

“Well, what should I say? We sabotaged the building so it would come down, I came in through a tunnel under it, then Hogan sounded the alarm. I came out blind and he talked you into sending me to the hospital, and our men drove me to France instead,” he shrugs and sips from his mug of hot tea, “I met up with some more of our men that got me to England.”

“Miss Dukes is no man if you have forgotten, Kinch.”

“Colonel, I intend to marry her, I know she is no man.”

“I do believe you mean to call me General,” Hogan says with a smirk, but Kinch just drinks from his mug again.

Klink speaks next, “Was she part if the underground?”

“I guess you could say that. She did help us win France after all, her connections from Hammerschlag and all that,” Kinch responds.

“You had Hammerschlag on our side?” Burkhalter says incredulously.

Kinch chuckles lowly, “No, General. He was on your, well, the other side. Hogan here convinced him he could speak to the ghost of Bismarck and she helped.”

“Actually, I was a French mute. Kinch doesn't like my accent.”

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere! That was you in Paris!”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Hogan…”

“It's General Hogan, Kommandant.”

Klink started to shake his fist, but waved him off to cross his arms and pout instead.

“Anyways, I've been working as a communications specialist for England since my disappearance from Germany.”

“I assume you have been the person who has been relaying the coded messages to us then,” Burkhalter says, folding his hands.

“I do believe so, General. Nimrod and the few agents we had in Berlin.”

“Incredible,” Klink says, then leans back in his seat, picking up his brandy once again.

Hogan turns to Burkhalter, “What about your wife, General? And your sister?”

“My wife is not on our side. She and my sister both. I love them dearly, but they never knew about what I did, despite how nosy Gertrude is. I tried to get her to marry again to stop trying to expose me to the Gestapo, but alas, she does not understand. I currently have her in a safe house with my wife, telling them it is all to keep them from the Allies, when it is really to keep them under constant supervision until the war is over. They both seem to have forgotten who they are,” he sighs heavily, “I hope they remember before I have them both reminded.”

“What even was project Nimrod, besides obviously taking the German government down from the inside?” Hogan asks. 

Klink and Burkhalter looked at each other,  then back to the Americans, “My job was to work alongside you and make sure your plans went off without a hitch while also providing money and food for the next Nimrod to get Jews out of the country.”

“I believe Hochstetter was retrieving the food and money from Klink and provided safe passage for them out of the country, I got them out of the camps and brought them to multiple different safe houses that I think he retrieved them from. I also got some out on my own, either to Switzerland or to France, depending on where I was heading at the time,” Burkhalter adds, “I also of course distracted Hitler and delayed his plans with some of our contacts in Berlin.”

“I think Schultz got the paperwork and clothing for them all settled,” Klink says, looking down at his glass, “I always thought he was a stupid man until he told me he was the Schatzie toy owner, that tipped me off a little.”

“Really, Klink?”

Klink looked offended, “Yes, General Burkhalter. I tried figuring out who all of you were, despite it being against the rules.”

“You're an idiot, Klink.”

“If I was an idiot, how did I fool all of you for an entire war?”

“I think we are all still wondering that,” Burkhalter says under his breath.

Hogan grins and Klink sneers, “I am brilliant, if you forgot, General.”

“How else would he have married such a pretty fräulein?”

“Hoooogan.”

 

~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~.~~~

 

Carter and Baker were sitting with Hochstetter, absolutely immersed in his tales of destroying the Gestapo from the inside out while keeping his identity a secret.

“So, Major Hochstetter-”

“Please, Lieutenant, call me Aleksander, or even just Alek or Caine. I cannot stand using the name Hochstetter anymore.”

“In that case, call me Andrew.”

“And call me Richard, sir.”

“I think I can do that.”

Carter starts again, “So, Aleksander, gosh, that's funny to say after calling you Hochstetter for so long, uh, how were you able to fool the Gestapo for so long?”

He grins at them and crosses one leg over the other as he leans forward, “All you have to do is yell and know things, and I most certainly can do that.”

Carter snorts at that and covers his mouth while Baker just chuckles, “That's how Carter here fooled Klink and Burkhalter into thinking he was Hitler.”

“Don't forget that other German, the one that came to camp as a spy, and Schultz.”

“Incredible. I knew that you all could impersonate officials and speak German fairly well, but impersonating Hitler? That’s fantastic.”

“Ziemlich gut?” Baker says, raising an eyebrow slowly.

“Wir klingen wie Eingeborene, Aleksander.”

Caine shook his head, “You know, I cannot argue with that, Andrew, Richard. You could most certainly pass for an Aryan, Andrew.”

“Wow, what a compliment.”

“Oh, Carter, you passed for a German tons of times, it was a compliment,” Baker protests.

“You know, sometimes I wished I looked more like the Lakota side of my family”

“And sometimes I wished I looked more like Bing Crosby, but here we are.”

“You know, I think Bing Crosby should look more like you.”

“Why on Earth would he want that?”

“Because,” Carter gestures with both hands, “Blue eyes and blonde hair is too German of a look, I think black hair and brown eyes is coming back from what Louis told me.”

Caine clears his throat, “Gentlemen…”

“And, personally, I think Aleksander would look better with a beard.”

“I think you might just be onto something there, Carter…”

“Oh boy,” Caine mutters.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, please drop a comment, or even just a kudo, if you catch my eye, though, I might slip secrets of the later chapters to you, or let you name a character I have planned out but haven't named yet.


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